


Triple Play

by AgtSpooky



Category: Strike Back
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Missing Scenes, Season/Series 03, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-14 15:44:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 75,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20603294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgtSpooky/pseuds/AgtSpooky
Summary: Forming a true, deep connection with one person is hard enough. But two? And at the same time? As Michael, Damien and Baxter race to recover the stolen nuclear triggers, their lives collide in a way no one could have predicted. And in the end they learn that strength, and love, comes in threes. (Takes place throughout all of Season 3: Vengeance)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is. The first m/m/m threesome I've ever written, in any fandom. It was definitely out of my comfort zone, but Michael, Damien and Baxter just begged to have a story written about them. And although it was a challenge to write a relationship with three, I definitely enjoyed doing it. And I hope you'll enjoy reading it! I look forward to your feedback! Many thanks to my friend Paula M. for challenging me to write this. :-)

Damien Scott was restless.

For more years than he could remember, his body had gotten used to constantly being in motion, in the thick of the action. But now here he was, in limbo, trapped in London now for over a month. He was practically crawling out of his skin, unused to so much downtime. Especially after hooking up with Section 20 not long ago.

Excited cheers went up on either side of him and he couldn’t help but smile. So, okay, being trapped right at _this_ moment wasn’t all that bad—sitting between Michael Stonebridge and Liam Baxter, watching TV at Baxter’s flat on base and knocking back a few beers. The windows were open, letting in the warm, late summer night air. All three of them were dressed casually in t-shirts and jeans. The programming of choice tonight was soccer, or football, or whatever the hell the Brits called it. He just knew he’d _never_ call it “footie”. Or the television the “telly”. He was barely getting used to calling apartments “flats”.

Michael and Baxter had spent the last forty-five minutes alternately whooping and clapping and shouting obscenities at the refs. Damien thought he was supposed to be cheering for the team in blue. He still wasn’t quite sure. He’d never been interested in sports. He’d excelled in other…extracurricular activities in school. Ones that took place off the field and under the bleachers, if you got his meaning.

Michael cheered again, knocking against Damien’s shoulder in his excitement and Damien turned his head to look at his partner. He refused to think of Michael as his ex-partner. Just wasn’t happening, despite how things had turned out. That bond just doesn’t go away.

Michael looked relaxed and happy and Damien was glad. A smile on Michael’s face was rare these days, ever since Kerry’s miscarriage three weeks ago. It had hit his partner hard and things had been strained between Michael and Kerry ever since and getting worse as they drifted further and further apart. Michael just looked…lost…so often. He left a career he loved, lost his unborn baby and might now be losing his wife as well. Damien felt Michael’s pain as keenly as if it were his own and he wished there was something he could do to help. To fix things.

At least he could be there for his partner with a shoulder and a willing ear to listen or simply to get drunk with. That was the only advantage of still being stuck in London, plus the fact that even with Michael’s new position at the SAS training camp, he was still near the city as well.

But all that could change any day now, and there was a hole inside Damien, knowing he’d be going on missions without Michael. Eventually. Grant’s death and the repercussions of her actions had left Section 20 in limbo, and there was a shitload of internal crap going on within the British Army about the unit, which is why they’d been stood down for the past six weeks. The good news was that they hadn’t been automatically decommissioned, and Sinclair was in charge. At least temporarily. Which was fine with Damien. Sinclair was a good man and Damien had no problems taking orders from him. He just hoped he got the opportunity. Grant had given him a second chance and he didn’t want to lose it already. He’d finally found his place again, a purpose.

Damien gave a sideways glance to Baxter. And something more that he definitely hadn’t been expecting.

Damien was jostled again as Michael and Baxter high-fived each other over his head, nearly spilling his beer. Damien rolled his eyes at their enthusiasm but couldn’t help but grin. He was damn glad the two of them had hit it off after Damien introduced them. The three of them went out as often as they could—to the pubs, to play darts or watch soccer and rugby. And Michael now had a companion for his ridiculously early morning runs.

Their cheering reached a crescendo, and turning back toward the TV, Damien realized the blue team had won. He was happy for Michael and Baxter, but was glad it was over. Though he had to admit, a lot of those guys looked damn good in those shorts…

“Did you _see_ that last pass?” Baxter shouted in joy.

“Brilliant! Brilliant!” Michael laughed as they clinked their beer bottles together.

Michael tipped his head back and drained the bottle in a few long swallows before setting it back down on the table, next to several other empty ones. Damien watched as Michael glanced at his wrist, letting out a sigh, some of the happiness dimming from his hazel eyes.

“Getting late,” Michael said. “I’d best be getting home.”

“You’re welcome to stay the night, mate,” Baxter offered. “Couch is all yours.”

Michael paused, and for a brief second Damien thought he was going to say yes, but then resignation settled on his features and he shook is head. “Thanks, mate, but I’d better not.” He pulled out his phone, called up the appropriate app and booked a car for pick-up.

As he tucked his phone back in his pocket he turned to Damien and Baxter. “What are your schedules like the next couple days?”

“I’m meeting with Julia tomorrow afternoon to go over a computer security upgrade,” Baxter answered.

Damien shrugged. “Thought I’d hit the gun range tomorrow. Then another briefing with Sinclair day after. Not a whole hell of a lot. Why?”

“Come by the training camp tomorrow,” Michael said. “You can see how far they’ve all come in the last couple of weeks since you were there last.”

Damien grinned. “Showing off, Sergeant Stonebridge?”

“Oh fuck you,” Michael laughed, his words in jest but they still shot a sudden warmth low in Damien’s belly.

“We’ll be there,” Baxter smiled.

Michael nodded and stood, gathering up his empties. “Let me help clean up.”

The three of them had the flat tided in short order—dishes in the sink, empty bottles and food cartons from the curry takeaway they’d ordered earlier in the evening in the bin.

A horn honked from outside, signaling the arrival of Michael’s car, and Damien and Baxter walked him to the door. Michael slipped his shoes back on and Damien clasped him on the shoulder as he opened the door.

“Night, Mike.”

Michael nodded, his expression subdued once again. “See you both tomorrow,” he replied, walking outside.

Damien held the door open, brows drawn together, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth, watching his friend until he got in the car.

“You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” Baxter said quietly as Damien closed the door.

Damien sighed, leaning back against the wall in the entryway. “Michael is the most stoic, put-together guy I’ve ever known. I’ve never seen him like this. This…uncertain. So yeah. I’m worried.”

“You’re a good friend,” Baxter said. “I wish I could’ve had the opportunity to see the two of you in action. I can tell you make a great team.”

The hole inside Damien opened a bit wider. “Yeah, we were…” he trailed off.

Baxter stepped closer, cocking his head. “So what about you? You’ve had quite a few tonight. Want to stay?”

A grin slid across Damien’s face at the invitation in Baxter’s blue eyes. “Oh,” he drawled with a smirk, straightening up. “I haven’t had _nearly_ enough…”

He reached out and snagged one of Baxter’s belt loops, tugging the other man flush against him before spinning them around and pressing Baxter up against the wall, tipping his head down to capture his mouth with his own.

Damien had been attracted to Liam Baxter pretty much as soon as he laid eyes on him—the new kid who was unlucky enough to have a transfer to Section 20 in process just as it was on the verge of possible collapse. Though he was hardly a kid, only three or four years younger than Damien.

He’d gotten the vibe the attraction was mutual after that first meeting, and it was. It was only supposed to be a fun, no-strings attached, one-off fuck that turned into two, three, until Damien was spending nearly every night at Liam’s flat or Liam at his for the past four weeks.

There was something refreshing about Liam. Although he had the training and skill set of a soldier, he spent most of his time behind the scenes in ops, on his computer, providing support for those in the field. His face had yet to accumulate the hardened lines of a man who had seen too much, done too much in combat. Hadn’t become jaded, like Damien. Damien hoped Liam would stay behind his computer until the end of his career.

And it was more than physical attraction now. He had developed true feelings for Liam, and that surprised the hell out of him. Damien wasn’t one for anything long-term. And yet here he was, with no desire to go anywhere else.

Well, except to the bedroom…

He opened his mouth, deepening the kiss, groaning quietly as Liam’s tongue slipped inside to slide against his own. He moved his hands from Liam’s waist to cup the younger man’s ass and pull him tighter against himself. Liam hummed in approval, rocking his hips sensuously as they continued to kiss. Damien groaned again, feeling his cock grow and harden alongside Liam’s as they moved together. He pictured himself sliding inside Liam’s tight heat and the head of his cock was suddenly wet with precome, trapped inside his boxer briefs.

But before he could turn his thoughts into reality, Liam pulled back from the kiss, his blue eyes wide with arousal, and before Damien could blink, Liam had reversed their positions. He pressed Damien firmly up against the wall, kissing him quickly once more before dropping to his knees.

“Oh, yeah…” Damien breathed, his cock giving a hard throb at what was to come.

Liam made short work of the zipper on Damien’s jeans and a moment later they were pooled around his ankles along with his damp, black boxer briefs. A split second later his aching cock was surrounded by the wet warmth of Liam’s mouth.

“Fuck _me_,” Damien gasped, one hand falling lightly on the back of Liam’s head as the other man laved his tongue again and again over the tip of his cock.

Liam had the most talented mouth of any man Damien had ever known. Whether it was kissing, blow jobs or rimming—Damien couldn’t get enough. And his body let Liam know it.

Liam continued to lick and suck, pressing his tongue against the bundle of nerves on the underside of Damien’s cock, his hands resting on Damien’s thighs. Damien sucked in a breath at the stimulation, his cock releasing another burst of precome. Liam lapped at the fluid eagerly, his tongue dipping into the slit, trying to draw out more.

Damien’s fingers flexed in Liam’s short, black hair at the teasing. “More…” he ground out.

He felt Liam chuckle, and for a moment Damien thought he would deny him, but then he was knocking his head back against the wall as Liam swallowed him down to the base.

“Christ!” Damien cried out as Liam went to work in earnest on his rock hard cock.

He swallowed around Damien’s length as he hummed, the vibrations shooting straight to Damien’s heavy balls and Damien moaned at the sensation, fighting not to come right then and there. Then Liam was pulling up and back, letting Damien’s cock slide nearly all the way out of his mouth before sinking back down on it again.

“Fuck, _yes_…” Damien hissed as Liam set up a rhythm of bobbing his head, sucking and licking, driving Damien’s arousal higher and higher.

Damien looked down, watching in erotic fascination as his cock slid in and out of Liam’s mouth. He felt the first stirrings of his orgasm, torn between wanting to come down Liam’s throat or buried deep inside him.

But when Liam’s hands shifted, one cupping, rolling and tugging on Damien’s heavy balls and the other joining his mouth on his cock, stroking hard, Damien could wait no longer. He needed to be inside Liam. Now.

He released another stream of precome at the thought and Liam groaned, sucking once again at the tip, drinking it down, then made a sound of protest in the back of his throat as Damien tugged on his shoulder, urging him back up to his feet.

Liam’s mouth was wet, his face flushed, eyes blown wide. “Love the way you taste…”

Damien groaned, his cock twitching as he reached for Liam. “Want you…”

Then they were kissing hard, pulling at each other’s clothes, items falling away one by one, scattered across the entryway floor until there was nothing between them. Damien curled his hand around Liam’s straining length, hot and hard against his palm, the head wet and sticky with clear fluid. He stroked Liam quick and fast and it was Liam’s turn to cry out, pressing against Damien, into his touch.

They kissed again, their tongues doing battle as they kicked aside their discarded clothes, stumbling the short distance down the hallway on the left and into Liam’s bedroom.

Base housing was basic, sterile, but Liam had made the space his own with masculine, but comfortable furniture, in browns and blues, a few pieces of art on the walls, a window letting in the moonlight. It was warm and inviting. And right now the bed was sending out the invitation, loud and clear.

They fell upon it in a tangle of limbs, the top, light comforter cool against Damien’s skin, in contrast to the heat of Liam body beneath him. Damien rolled his hips, pushing their cocks together and Liam grasped Damien’s ass, both of them breathing faster as they ground against one another, their bellies sticky with precome.

“Damien…_please_…” Liam gasped, arching up against Damien. “Need you in me…”

Damien’s cock pulsed at the desire in Liam’s words and he dropped his head down to kiss him hard and fast before raising up and slapping his hand down blindly on the bedside table, searching for the tube he knew was there. They had dispensed with condoms awhile back, after blood tests and physicals were gladly taken and the results shared. Not that Damien had doubted for a second that Liam would keep anything from him, but Damien knew that his own sexual reputation preceded him so he was more than happy to have the tests run to erase any concern from Liam’s mind.

Because there was nothing better than being buried inside someone with nothing at all between you. Like Damien was about to be…

His fingers closed around the tube and he flicked open the cap, sitting up and back on his heels as Liam pushed himself up a bit further on the bed, bending his legs at the knees and spreading them wide.

“Fuck _me_…” Damien whispered at the sight before him—Liam open and waiting for him, slowly fisting his cock, the swollen head appearing and disappearing from the foreskin, his expression radiating want and need.

“Damien…”

His softly spoken name spurred him into action, quickly slicking the fingers of his right hand and then his cock, hissing at the sensitivity. He moved closer to Liam, between his spread legs, his fingers at first teasing, running over Liam’s heavy balls, rolling them, before questing further downward, searching. Liam’s eyes fluttered closed when Damien reached his destination, a quiet groan escaping next as Damien’s finger rubbed against the puckered muscle.

“_Yes_…” Liam gasped, mouth falling open as Damien slid one slick finger past the muscle and inside him.

Liam worked his cock a little faster, with long strokes as Damien quickly but carefully prepared him with first one finger, then two. When Liam started bearing down on them, trying to get them deeper, Damien knew he was ready. He withdrew his fingers and Liam groaned quietly at the loss, reaching for Damien.

And Damien went willingly, eagerly, his cock replacing his fingers, twin moans filling the semi-darkness of the bedroom as he pushed and slid deep inside Liam.

“Feels so fucking good,” Damien exhaled harshly, his cock so tightly surrounded by Liam’s heat.

Liam bucked his hips up, Damien slipping in ever so slightly deeper. “Make it feel better,” he groaned.

Damien obliged, first kissing Liam hard and fast before their bodies began moving as one. It was an ages-old dance that took them higher and higher, Damien giving and Liam taking in perfect harmony. Panting breaths and biting kisses and slick skin and friction and mounting pleasure pushed them both to the edge at a rapid pace, but neither could slow it down.

Damien’s impending orgasm was back, licking at the base of his spine and his rhythm faltered as Liam’s hand pulled harder, faster, on his own cock. Liam’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he worked himself, straining toward his own orgasm.

“Do it,” Damien ground out, still pushing his cock in and out of Liam. “Wanna watch you come…”

Liam moaned at his words, locking lust-filled eyes with Damien before throwing his head back. “Now!” he gasped. “Damien…now!”

And then Liam was coming, his cock surging, thick white streams painting his stomach and chest, his hand still working, pulling on his cock, drawing out his release.

“Fuck, _yes_…” Damien panted hoarsely at the sight as Liam’s body constricted around him in pulses as he came. The sensation was Damien’s undoing and he let himself go with a sharp shout, pushing in deep once, twice more, his release flowing through him in a hot rush, and into Liam. Liam shuddered beneath Damien as he filled him, reaching up and drawing Damien in for a long kiss as their bodies relaxed. When Damien’s softening cock slipped from Liam’s body he eased back from the kiss, dipping his head down to lap up the evidence of Liam’s release from his smooth skin. He sucked gently on Liam’s semi-hard cock, coaxing out another small stream of fluid, Liam’s most intimate taste warm and strong on his tongue. Liam hummed contentedly, running his fingers through Damien’s short hair before Damien turned them so that he was spooned around and behind Liam, an arm draped loosely over his waist. He sighed, the pull of sleep creeping up on him when he felt Liam chuckle.

“I take it this means you’re staying?”

Damien’s answer was a smile against Liam’s shoulder and a tightening of his arm around his waist.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Liam let his eyes drift open, blinking slowly at the early morning light coming in through the window in his bedroom. He stretched languidly, feeling a pleasant ache throughout most of his body. He grinned to himself, remembering why. He tipped his head to the right, spying the person responsible—Damien Scott, still sleeping peacefully beside him. Damien was lying on his side, facing Liam, the sheet pushed down around his waist, exposing miles of warm, bare skin. Liam could practically feel Damien’s hands on him from last night and again before dawn, ghosting over his back and ass, the feel of him so thick and hard inside him, the taste of his kiss…

Liam’s cock stirred at the memory and he again wondered how all this happened. How he ended up in bed with Damien more than once. Or just once at all.

There was no doubt he was physically attracted to Damien the first time he laid eyes on him—introduced by Julia Richmond, the new guy with the apparent misfortune of finally getting his transfer approved to the elite Section 20 just as the unit might possibly be disbanded. The loud, smug, brash, over-confident and drop-dead gorgeous “bad boy” American had pushed all his buttons. And the tattoos? They were just a bonus.

Damien seemed to take an interest in him, too, but Liam was under no illusions that he could ever really have something with Damien. Thanks to Julia, he was well aware of Damien’s sexual reputation. The man slept with anything with two legs. Male or female. As often as he could. Rarely repeating the encounter.

So when it happened, and drinks at the pub turned into some of the most amazing sex Liam had ever had, he was glad he’d been able to scratch that itch and forced himself not to ask for more than what Damien had already given him. But to his surprise, Damien wanted to give him more, and it wasn’t long before their feelings for one another grew and Liam held onto the tentative thought that this might actually last.

He wondered about Damien and Michael, though. Their close bond was blatantly obvious and he would find it hard to believe that they’d never slept together. Liam let himself picture them together, making love. They would look amazing. While Damien was ruggedly handsome, Michael was just as attractive, but in a different, more polished way. And he liked the striking difference between them. He’d seen Michael naked more than once in the showers at the base after their morning runs. But besides Michael’s physical appeal, he was genuinely a nice bloke and Liam was glad that Damien had introduced them. They’d become good mates and he enjoyed the time he spent with Michael alone as well as the three of them together.

Liam frowned slightly. He was worried about Michael, though. He was angry and depressed so often as his marriage continued to fall apart. He wished there was something he could do for his friend.

“It’s too fucking early for you to be thinking so fucking hard.”

Liam let the frown slide away, chuckling as Damien shifted, smirking, sliding down underneath the sheet.

And then Liam couldn’t think at all.


	2. Chapter 2

“Move your asses!”

Michael’s voice rang out in the late morning, bouncing off the trees, his partner a few feet in front of where Damien stood, Baxter next to him.

“Is that the best you can do?” Michael shouted again, his sharp words aimed at the four recruits running the obstacle course.

Damien’s brow furrowed as he took a long drag on his cigarette, then exhaled a smooth stream of white smoke up into the cloudless sky. Michael had been agitated, snapping at the recruits all morning. Damien had seen the tired lines around Michael’s eyes and knew instinctively that he and Kerry had had yet another argument last night, and he hurt for his friend. But other than that he looked good, every bit the sergeant in command, dressed in his green fatigues. Working special ops, they rarely had cause to be in uniform and Michael cut a sharp figure with his broad shoulders and trim waist. The poster boy for the British Military. Damien and Baxter were wearing their fatigues as well, the more appropriate attire for the SAS training camp than civvies, and he felt like a soldier again for the first time in six weeks.

Damien took a last pull on his cigarette and ground out the butt under his boot as he watched the recruits cross the finish line. They were all grouped fairly close together except for one straggler who was breathing hard and sweating in the cool morning air. Other than him, Michael was right in telling Damien and Baxter how much they’d all improved since the last time they’d been at the camp.

Michael shook his head at the last man to cross the line, noting his time down on a clipboard alongside the rest of the recruit’s times. Damien had the distinct feeling that Hanson, as the back of his shirt said, wouldn’t be making the cut into the elite SAS. But it was no reflection on Michael’s ability as an instructor. He was good at his new job, but from what Damien had observed, there was no passion in him for it. Not like the passion he’d shown while with Section 20. Earlier on the firing range, as Damien and Baxter watched, Damien couldn’t help but think that Michael should be the one _doing_ the firing instead of _showing_ someone how to fire a weapon.

Baxter nodded toward Hanson. “That one’s not got what it takes. Several misses on the range, too.”

Damien nodded. “Not everyone’s cut out for this.” He shoved his hands inside his pockets. “I’m surprised Michael hasn’t cut him loose yet. He hasn’t gotten any better since the first time we saw him.”

Baxter shrugged. “Wants to give everyone a chance right up until selection, I suppose.”

“Hmmm…” Damien murmured, watching Hanson still struggling to control his breathing.

“Fast-roping in five! Grab your gear!” Michael commanded, then spun on his heel and strode toward Damien and Baxter as the recruits scrambled to get their appropriate equipment.

Michael indicated with a tip of his head for Damien and Baxter to follow him, and he led them to a tall tower with ropes hanging off each side. The tower, Damien knew from his experience in Delta, was to simulate a helicopter, from which the recruits would jump off of and fast rope down to the ground. It wasn’t easy—falling quickly, being able to control your descent and time it right to hit feet first and standing instead of stumbling, losing your balance and ending up on your ass.

“So,” Michael began as they came to a stop in front of the tower. “What do you think?”

“Looking good,” Baxter complimented him. “You’re right, I can see the improvement. Well done, mate.”

“Thanks, Liam,” Michael answered with a small smile.

Damien cocked his head. “Maybe riding them a bit hard, Mike?”

The smile slid from Michael’s face. “They need it,” he snapped. “I’m getting them all through this training.”

Damien raised an eyebrow, both at Michael’s continued agitated tone and his statement. “All of them?” he asked dubiously as the recruits filed past, Hanson last again.

Michael set his jaw, averting his gaze from Damien, watching Hanson jog past. “All of them.”

Damien shook his head. “I’m not seeing it with him. Why are you trying so hard?”

Michael sighed quietly, taking a beat before responding. “Jake’s brother, Craig—we served together.” He paused, looking back at Damien. “He saved my life. Twice.”

Damien nodded slowly. And now it all made sense.

“I owe him,” Michael continued. “I figure if I can get his brother through this, and into SAS, it will go a long way toward me repaying my debt.”

“I get it, I do,” Damien replied, choosing his next words carefully. “But you won’t be doing anyone any favors if you pass him when he’s not ready and he gets himself killed.”

Michael’s jaw muscle flexed, his eyes hardening, and Damien waited for his harsh response to Damien challenging him. But it needed to be said. His partner had been off his game these last few weeks, his personal life possibly affecting his professional one, not making the most rational decisions because his focus was elsewhere.

But the reply never came as they were interrupted by a shout from one of the recruits.

“Ready, Sarge!”

Michael ended the silent stand-off by turning his head from Damien, his jaw still clenched. Damien sighed to himself and followed Michael’s gaze toward the tower, aware of Baxter shifting uncomfortably beside him at the exchange.

The recruits were spread out around the bottom of the tower, wearing their tactical vest, their rifles slung across their shoulder and chest. At Michael’s word, they would scale the tower as quickly as possible, throw down the ropes attached to metal beams meant to simulate the skids of a helicopter, fast-rope down, then take up a defensive position with rifles drawn.

Michael withdrew his stopwatch, his thumb on the button. “Go!”

As the recruits sprang into action, climbing like spiders on a web, Damien reached out and lay a hand on Michael’s shoulder, offering an olive branch. “Listen, come out to dinner with Liam and I tonight. Have a few drinks, blow off some steam…”

Michael’s features softened as he glanced over to Damien. Just as last night at Baxter’s, Damien could tell Michael wanted to accept, but instead shook his head, looking sad, conflicted. “Thanks, mate, but I need to be at home,” he finally said.

Damien nodded, squeezing Michael’s shoulder before putting his hand in his pocket. He was conflicted himself, wanting Michael to relax but glad that he was trying to be the best husband he could and repair the rift between he and Kerry. Or he was punishing himself unfairly, staying in a relationship that just couldn’t be fixed, taking all the blame on himself.

“We’ll be at the Drunken Ferret if you change your mind,” Baxter spoke up.

Michael gave a short nod and a small, tired smile before focusing his attention back on the tower, as did Damien and Baxter. The recruits were just reaching the top, and Damien noticed that this time Hanson was keeping pace with everyone else. He watched as four ropes were tossed over nearly simultaneously and the four men began their rapid descent. All was looking good until they reached the bottom. Three of them executed the landing perfectly—standing on both feet, freeing themselves of the rope before swinging their rifles up and dropping into a defensive crouch. But while Hanson landed on both feet, he became tangled in the rope trying to release it and stumbled, landing on all fours.

“Shit!” Michael spat, hand clenching on the clipboard so hard Damien was afraid it would crack. He blew out a harsh breath and looked up toward the sky, taking a moment to regain his composure before shouting at the recruits, his frustration clearly evident.

“Again! Until you _all_ get it right!”

There was no missing the looks three of the recruits shot Hanson, and Damien took that as he and Liam’s cue to leave. Michael didn’t need an audience any longer, not after Damien’s comment about Jake Hanson’s performance.

Damien looked at Baxter and tipped his head back toward the main part of the training camp. With a last, concerned look at Michael, Baxter followed Damien, both of them silent, but Damien knew Baxter was just as worried about Michael as he was.

The morning was getting warmer and as they drew closer to the main gates of the training camp Damien began pulling at the collar of his fatigues, remembering why he hated to wear a uniform.

“Can’t wait to get this off,” he muttered, jumping in the driver’s side of the Jeep they’d commandeered from the motor pool.

Baxter slid in beside him, leaning in close, a playful glint in his eyes, breaking the subdued mood. “Can’t wait to get _you_ off,” he breathed, sliding a hand up Damien’s leg to his crotch, cupping Damien through his pants.

Damien barked out a laugh, his tension released, and hit the gas.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The shrill ringing of Damien’s phone startled him awake. Still half-asleep, not quite understanding what woke him, it took another ring for him to realize it was his phone. He groaned into the pitch darkness of his bedroom, his hand blindly reaching for the phone on his bedside table, trying not to wake Liam, who was a warm, heavy weight curled against him. He turned his head, blinking blurry eyes, the digital display of his clock coming into focus as his hand curled around his phone—12:02 am.

“What the fuck…?” he muttered, angry at the late night call, until he saw the name displayed on his phone—Michael Stonebridge.

He was instantly fully awake, an uneasy feeling taking hold and he sat up straighter, jostling Liam.

“Hmmm….Damien?” Liam mumbled, rolling slightly away, blinking open his eyes.

Damien held up a finger to Liam and quickly answered the phone. “Mike?”

At Michael’s name Liam, too, sat up, concern written on his features. Michael had not joined them for dinner last night and they’d both hoped it meant things were going well at home for him. But a phone call at midnight suggested otherwise.

“Mike?” Damien said again, hearing breathing and the sound of a car driving past.

_“D-Damien?”_

Damien frowned at the heavy, disconnected tone of his Michael’s voice. “Yeah, buddy, it’s me. What’s going on?”

_“I’m…I’m making a mess of everything…”_ Michael slurred and Damien suddenly realized his partner was drunk.

Overindulging and getting wasted was Damien’s deal, not Michael’s, and his concern rose even higher. Again, he heard the sound of a car in the background. “Michael? Where are you?”

_“I…they made me leave…said they were closed…”_

Damien threw back the maroon sheets and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “You’re at a pub? Which one?”

_“The…The Red Lion…”_

“Okay, buddy. Stay there. I’m coming to get you.” Silence on the other end. “Mike? Did you hear me?”

_“I’ll stay here,”_ Michael finally answered. _“I’ll sit here.”_

Damien flipped on the bedroom light and started grabbing at a t-shirt and jeans. “Yeah, just sit right there, buddy.”

_“Damien…I’m…I’m sorry…”_

Damien paused, his chest clenching. “It’s okay, Mike,” he said softly. “I’ll be right there.”

Damien ended the call and turned to Liam, who was sitting up in bed. “Mike…he’s drunk,” he sighed. “I need to go get him, take him home.”

“Of course,” Liam answered, also sliding from the bed, reaching for his discarded clothes. “I’ll come with you.”

Damien stepped in close and stilled Liam’s movements with a hand on the side of his face. “Thank you,” he said quietly, kissing him gently.

Liam gave him a small, understanding smile. “C’mon. Let’s go get our mate.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

They took Liam’s car, since Damien didn’t have one of his own. One of the perks of working computer ops and being based mainly in London meant it was practical to have your own vehicle. Damien was rarely in one country long enough to have a hotel room for a couple of weeks, let alone a car. Living in his flat here in base housing for over a month was a rarity in his life.

The streets of London were quiet at this time of night, all of the pubs closing at either 11:00 pm or midnight, so they made good time to The Red Lion. True to his word, Michael was sitting on the sidewalk outside. He was under an overhead light, leaning back up against the wall of the pub, knees bent, arms resting on them, head hanging. He radiated loneliness and Damien closed his eyes briefly against the sight.

Michael looked up as the car came to a stop in front of him, but he remained sitting, so Damien got out and crouched down next to him. He curled a hand around the back of Michael’s neck and squeezed gently.

“You okay?”

Michael looked away from him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called. Shouldn’t have bothered you…”

“Yes, you should have,” Damien reassured him. “Did you drive?” Michael shook his head. “Okay, we’ll take Baxter’s car. C’mon, on your feet soldier,” Damien encouraged him, helping Michael to his feet, his partner swaying slightly. “Let’s get you home,” he said, starting to lead Michael to the car, a hand on his arm.

But Michael stopped, pulling his arm away, stumbling a bit as he backed up. “No. No…I can’t go back there. Not tonight,” he said, voice gone rough.

Damien wondered what had happened between Michael and Kerry that night, what words had been said between them. But it would do no good to force him to go back and potentially make the situation worse. He reached out and took Michael’s arm again as Liam exited the car now as well, his expression silently asking Damien if he needed help. Damien shook his head as guided Michael back toward the car.

“All right, buddy, we’ll go back to my place, okay? You can sleep it off on my couch.”

Michael didn’t protest and Damien got him in the back seat and slid in next to him. The ride back to his flat was silent, Liam driving, Michael leaning against the window, his eyes closed, Damien keeping a close watch on his drunk partner. When they arrived back where they started, Liam used the key Damien had given him a week ago and let them all into the flat.

Michael walked slowly, coming to a stop in the middle of the small living room and just stared vacantly at the wall, like he didn’t know what to do next. Damien frowned as he stepped up next to his partner and put a hand on his back as Liam disappeared down the hall to the bedroom.

“C’mon, Mike. Sit down.”

Michael did as he was told without a word, and here in the brighter lights Damien could see how bloodshot his partner’s eyes were, a testament to how much alcohol he must have had. And Michael was no lightweight. He’d done a damn good job trying to drown out whatever had happened with Kerry that night.

Liam appeared then with a pillow and blanket and Damien nodded in thanks as he set them down on the couch. “Can you get him a glass of water and some aspirin?”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Liam answered and went back down the hallway to the bathroom.

Damien got Michael’s light blue t-shirt up and off of him as well as his shoes and then Liam was back with the water and pills. He offered them both to Michael from where he kneeled on the floor in front of him.

“Here, let’s get this in you. Drink all the water. But you’re still going to feel like shit in the morning,” he said honestly.

Michael tossed back the white tablets and drank down the entire glass of water. He sighed deeply, his eyes falling half closed as he swayed toward Damien. “I’m sorry…” he apologized again, voice cracking.

Damien caught his shoulders and rested their foreheads together, his throat constricting. “It’s okay.” He paused for a long moment, lending Michael his support in his time of need before slowly straightening up.

He got Michael to lay back on the couch, his head on the pillow, and covered him with the blanket. “Get some rest, buddy. I’m going to call Kerry, let her know where you are.”

“I don’t think I can fix this, Damien…” he whispered brokenly.

Damien’s chest tightened at Michael’s words, at the lost expression once again on his partner’s face. He crouched down beside him and lay a hand on his arm. “Sure you can,” he told him. “Now get some sleep.”

Michael held his gaze for a moment before letting his eyelids fall heavily closed. Looking at his friend, in the state he was in, Damien had to admit to himself that deep down, he was beginning to doubt that things _could_ be fixed between Michael and Kerry. They had been having problems long before Kerry’s miscarriage. There was a reason that Michael had been cheating on her with Kate. Sometimes, no matter how hard you wanted it, some relationships just weren’t meant to be. It looked like this was one of them. And if it did finally come to an end, Damien would be there for Michael to help him pick up the pieces and move on. Because that’s what partners did.

He gave Michael’s arm a soft squeeze then stood, reaching in his pocket for his phone to call Kerry when he saw Liam standing to the side of the couch, the expression on his face causing Damien to pause. Liam was glancing between he and Michael, a mix of emotions on his face including…jealousy?

Damien blinked at that, just as Liam broke eye contact and took a step toward the front door. “I should go,” he said quietly.

Damien’s brow furrowed. “What? No…” He crossed the living room and caught Liam’s wrist. He rubbed his thumb against the warm skin there. “Stay. Please.” He tipped his head down for a soft kiss.

Liam’s expression was clearer, but still guarded when he nodded. “Okay.” He gave Damien a small smile and walked down the hallway.

Damien took out his phone, watching Liam curiously until he disappeared into the bedroom before dialing Kerry.

Despite it being nearly 1 o’clock in the morning, she picked up the phone after the first ring.

_“Michael?”_

Damien sighed. “Hey, Kerry, no, it’s Damien. Michael’s here with me, at my flat. He’s…not feeling all that great and is going to spend the night. I didn’t want you to worry about where he was.”

There was a long pause on the other end and Damien heard Kerry swallow hard. _“Thank you, Damien. For taking care of him,”_ she replied quietly, sadness apparent in her voice.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll get him home in the morning. Kerry…” he trailed off, unsure of what to say.

_“Thank you,”_ she said softly, seeming to understand, and ended the call.

Damien sighed again as he put his phone back in his pocket. He looked down at his partner, eyes closed, breathing deep. “Night, Mike,” he murmured as he flipped off the lights and stepped into the hallway, leaving one concern behind him with another one possibly ahead of him in the bedroom.

Liam was undressed and under the sheets when Damien walked in, lying on his back, his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hey,” Damien said, leaving the door open slightly behind him, wanting to be able to hear Michael if he needed him.

Liam tipped his head toward Damien. “Hey,” he replied, voice neutral, and Damien definitely knew something was bothering him.

He undressed for the second time that night and slid under the sheets, leaning in toward Liam. “What’s wrong?”

Liam was quiet for a long moment, as if he was trying to decide what to say. He finally lowered his arms and rolled on his side to face Damien. But instead of answering, he asked his own question.

“Are you attracted to Michael?”

Damien blinked in surprise and leaned back. “Where’s this coming from?”

Liam shrugged. “I’ve seen how close you two are. Especially what I saw tonight.”

“He’s my _friend_…” Damien started, feeling suddenly off-kilter with this conversation.

Liam flashed him a quick grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s okay, you can tell me. He’s gorgeous.”

Unbidden, Damien was suddenly back in Kuala Lumpur, seeing Michael, meeting him for the first time, wondering how fast he could get the uptight Brit on his knees in front of him. Still wondered to this day what it would be like.

“Julia told me about your first mission together,” Liam continued. “You went from adversaries to mates pretty quickly.” He paused. “Did anything go on between you?”

Damien shifted uncomfortably but he shook his head. “No. Michael’s married.” And he truly liked Kerry. He would never hurt her by seducing her husband. Who he _was_ attracted to. Ever since spying Michael watching him fighting in the ring. Especially since he dug a bullet out of Damien’s leg and saved his life. And he’d been keeping that attraction hidden ever since. Because Michael was off-limits.

Damien regarded Liam steadily, making sure to give away nothing in his voice. He liked Liam, what they had going. There was no reason to jeopardize it by admitting to what would always remain a fantasy. “He’s my friend. That’s all.”

Liam nodded slowly in reply, but Damien could see a shadow of lingering doubt in his blue eyes. Then those eyes were sliding closed as he shifted, moving close, capturing Damien’s mouth with his own. But this kiss felt different than all their others, like it was a test Liam wanted him to pass, to prove where Damien’s affections lay.

When they parted a long minute later, Liam’s expression was unreadable before he turned off the bedside light and rolled away from Damien. But hours later when he woke Damien with soft, slow touches, when he moved so deep inside him, Damien heard his apology without words.

~*~*~*~*~*~

At shortly past 7:30 am, Damien shuffled out of his bedroom, scrubbing a hand over his face, wearing nothing but a pair of navy blue sweatpants slung low on his hips. His destination was the kitchen, intending to first make a large pot of coffee and then breakfast for himself, Liam and Michael, before borrowing Liam’s car to take his partner home. He was actually a decent cook, but rarely had the chance to show off his culinary skills until being stuck here in London for the last six weeks.

He fully expected Michael to still be sleeping off last night’s bender, so he was taken by surprise when he instead found him fully dressed and folding up the blanket. Michael turned his head as Damien approached, going absolutely still for a moment, before quickly turning his head back to his task.

“Hey,” Damien said.

Michael cleared his throat. “Hey,” he responded, not looking at Damien, fidgeting with the blanket.

Damien tipped his head at his partner’s odd behavior. “You feeling better?”

Michael nodded once. “Yeah….ummm…thank you. For taking care of me.” He flicked his gaze to Damien and then away again, but not before Damien caught sight of the sudden flush of pink across his partner’s cheeks. “And I’m sorry. I never should have…”

Damien waved off Michael’s apparent embarrassment, his uncharacteristic unease. “It’s okay. I’m glad you called me.” He stepped closer, resting a hand on Michael’s shoulder and he turned to finally look fully at Damien. “I’m worried about you, Mike. You can’t keep going on like you’ve been.”

“I know,” Michael admitted, looking down at the floor. “I just…” he broke off, exhaling sharply, shaking his head.

Damien squeezed his shoulder. “Talk to me, Mike. Please.”

Michael raised his head, his hazel eyes tired, lines of strain around them. He swallowed hard, nodding, and Damien felt him relax under his touch.

But before Michael could say a word, the moment was broken by the sudden appearance of Liam from the bedroom, holding out Damien’s ringing phone to him.

“It’s Sinclair.”

Damien frowned down at the phone. They had their regularly scheduled briefing in just a few hours. Why would he be calling?

“Sir?” he answered.

_“Scott. The briefing’s been moved up. Report to the crib immediately.”_

Damien shot a glance to Liam at Sinclair’s words. “What’s going on?”

_“Twenty’s been called up. We have our next mission.”_

Damien’s pulse spiked, the familiar rush flowing through his veins at the prospect of being back in the field. Finally. Twenty had been given another chance.

“I’ll be right there,” Damien answered, hanging up the call.

“What is it?” Liam asked quickly.

“Twenty’s back in action,” he said simply, a grin splitting his face, echoed by Liam a second later. “Get dressed, we need to get to the crib.”

He turned to Michael as Liam went back to the bedroom, cursing the timing of Sinclair’s call, just when Michael was about to finally open up to him.

“Mike…” he started, but now Michael did the waving off.

“No worries. I’ll call for a car. You’ve got a new assignment waiting for you,” he said with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes.

And just like that, Damien’s excitement was immediately tempered. Because Michael would not be by his side on this mission. Or any other.

“Damien, I know I’ve said this before but…I’m glad you’ve got Liam. That you’ll have someone out there with you.”

_But it should be you_. The words were on the tip of Damien’s tongue, but he held them in. It would be cruel of him to say. Michael was already carrying enough weight on his shoulders.

So instead he said the rest of what he was feeling. “You’ll always be my partner, Mike. You know that, right?”

This time the smile did reach Michael’s eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, mate, I do.”


	3. Chapter 3

Liam tried to hide his grin as Damien scowled down into the remnants of his second beer. They were at the Drunken Ferret, along with Michael, having a late dinner and bringing him up to speed after their briefing with Sinclair that morning. Liam thought it had gone exceptionally well. Damien, though…not so much.

Liam was thrilled Section 20 had been cleared and given the green light for new missions and that he would finally be joining the team. But Damien was taking exception to the _kind_ of mission this was going to be.

“A fucking _babysitting_ job, Michael!” Damien growled and again Liam tried not to smile. Just _who_ was acting like the child at the moment?

Michael cocked his head. “Surely that can’t be all there is to it.”

Damien threw his hands up. “It is! I’m going all the way to fucking Kenya to sit there and watch some low-level British consulate attaché—Rosie, Rachel, whatever the hell her name is, bring in her asset from Libya. That’s _it_.” Damien picked up his glass and downed the rest of his beer in one swallow.

Michael shot a sideways glance at Liam and Liam saw the amusement in Michael’s eyes before he looked back at Damien.

“Scott, look,” Michael tried to placate him. “Baby steps, mate. You’re operating on your own now. Sinclair is new in charge. Get this milk-run over with, with no problems, and you’ll be back shooting people in no time,” he grinned.

Damien paused, then huffed out a breath, still scowling. “I fucking hate it when you’re right.”

Both Liam and Michael finally let out the laughs they’d been holding in and Damien’s scowl deepened. “Oh fuck you both,” he cursed but Liam caught the twitch of a smile at the corners of Damien’s mouth.

Damien pushed back his chair and stood. “I’ve gotta hit the head and then we should get going,” he said, looking at Liam. “I’ve got an early flight out.”

Liam nodded and Michael leaned in close as they both watched Damien walk away.

“Liam,” Michael began, voice low and serious now. “Even though this seems like a simple assignment, trouble seems to follow Damien wherever he goes.” He paused, his words weighted with concern. “Keep me updated, will you? And…watch out for him.”

Michael’s request hit Liam hard, at the trust Michael was putting in him, to keep Damien safe because he couldn’t be there to do it himself.

Liam met Michael’s gaze steadily, projecting confidence in the task he’d been given. “You know I will.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Illuminated only by the moonlight streaming in from the window, they slowly undressed one another beside Damien’s bed. Their mouths came together and parted, unhurried, over and over as each piece of clothing was removed and puddled at their feet. Finally naked, hands skimming over bare skin, Liam let Damien ease them down onto the bed. Damien’s warm, heavy weight blanketed Liam’s body as they continued to kiss. Sex between them was always easy and relaxed. But for the first time tonight, as soon as they’d stepped into the room, the atmosphere changed. There was an undercurrent of worry, of concern, in their touch. Tomorrow would be the first time they would be separated since getting involved. It was hitting Liam for the first time that being in a relationship with a special ops soldier wasn’t going to be easy. For despite Damien’s grousing and he and Michael’s teasing, the truth was, Damien was heading into an unstable, foreign country. Anything could go wrong. Including Damien never coming home again.

Liam tightened his arms around Damien, kissing him a little deeper. He wished now he was more of a field operative. Or that Michael was still with Section 20 and would be there to watch Damien’s back. Liam chastised himself once again for having all but accused Damien of being in love with Michael and having had an affair with him. He was ashamed at the surge of jealousy and insecurity he’d been overcome with the night Michael had gotten drunk. Watching the two of them, he wanted that same bond, that same trust with Damien that he had with Michael. But things were still new between them and they didn’t quite have what he and Michael did. Yet.

He was honestly surprised that nothing had gone on between the two of them. He knew he wasn’t imagining the subtle attraction he sensed when Damien and Michael were together. And if he was being honest with himself, he, too, was a bit attracted to Michael. It was almost impossible not to be with his looks, his personality. Not that he would ever act on it, nor Damien it seemed, if he hadn’t already. He needed to get over his fear of losing Damien to Michael, because he truly felt that he and Damien were building something together. Something that was going to last.

Damien’s tongue slid against his as his hips pressed slightly downward, sliding their hardening cocks together, bringing Liam out of his thoughts and back to the present. He hummed into the kiss, enjoying the slow build-up, the desire to draw out the night, despite the circumstances that precipitated it.

Liam knew that Damien enjoyed his mouth, but the same was true in reverse. Damien was the most expressive kisser Liam had ever known. Soft and slow, hard and quick—Damien poured whatever he was feeling into his kiss. And tonight Liam sensed that he, too, wanted to make tonight last. Just in case…

Damien eased back from the kiss then, his blue eyes wide in the semi-darkness as he gazed down at Liam, unspoken emotion passing between them. Liam cupped the side of Damien’s face and Damien’s eyes drifted closed, leaning into Liam’s touch before dipping his head. His lips pressed against the side of Liam’s neck, trailing kisses from behind his ear down to the top of his shoulder and across his collarbone, his stubble brushing against Liam’s skin, raising goosebumps. Liam sighed, closing his own eyes, as Damien mouth drifted lower. His lips found one of Liam’s nipples, closing around it and sucking gently. Liam groaned quietly at the stimulation, his fingers sliding through Damien’s short, dark hair, flexing, encouraging. Damien obliged, laving the small nub with his tongue, bringing it to pebble hardness. Liam made another noise in the back of his throat as Damien sucked again, one hand skimming across Liam’s smooth chest to roll his other nipple between his fingers. Liam pulled in a sharp breath, his cock filling further, trapped between their bodies. Damien grazed the nipple with his teeth and Liam arched up, the sensation shooting straight down to his heavy balls.

“More…” he pleaded on a whisper.

Damien gave one last tug to both nipples, with his teeth and fingers and Liam moaned before Damien slid his body downward again, trailing kisses over Liam’s abs and stomach until his chin bumped the head of Liam’s cock. He paused for a moment, looking up and locking gazes with Liam before taking Liam into his mouth.

Liam arched up again as his cock was surrounded by wet heat. “Yes…” he breathed, fisting his hands into the bed sheets.

Damien sucked slowly, bringing Liam to full hardness, and Liam reveled in the sensation of growing, lengthening against Damien’s tongue as he lapped at his length, his swollen head. Damien pressed against the bundle of nerves there and Liam arched up again, feeling himself release a burst of precome. Damien hummed and swallowed, bobbing his head now and Liam groaned, letting himself drift as Damien took his arousal higher and higher.

But before it could reach its peak, just as his cock throbbed, leaking precome again, Liam tugged on Damien’s shoulder.

“Wait…” he panted. There was so much more he wanted to do before he found his release.

It was Damien’s turn to groan as he sucked hard one last time before letting Liam’s cock slip wetly from his mouth.

“Come here,” Liam said with a soft smile and Damien crawled back up his body and into his arms.

Their mouths met again, tongues exploring slow and gentle and Liam rolled them, reversing their positions. Damien made a noise of approval into the kiss, his hands roaming over Liam’s bare back and the swell of his ass. Liam pressed down with his hips. Damien was hard now, too, and their cocks pushed against each other’s.

“Mmm….” Damien sighed into the kiss, hips pressing upward, hands cupping Liam’s ass now.

Liam pulled back from the kiss, rocking against Damien, creating delicious friction as their cocks rubbed against one another. Damien’s hands were flexing on his ass now, trying to press Liam down harder against him.

Damien lifted his head, his voice low against Liam’s ear.

“Ride me.”

Liam’s breath stuttered at the hunger in Damien’s words, at the surge of arousal that flooded through him. His cock pulsed, the head wet again, an answering wetness on Damien’s as well.

Liam captured Damien’s mouth in reply, their tongues doing sensuous battle until they needed to part for breath. Liam lifted up, straddling Damien with knees on either side of his thighs. He took a moment to run his hands up Damien’s body, his fingers brushing through the dusting of soft, dark hair on his chest, his thumbs flicking across both of his nipples. Damien twitched, groaning quietly as Liam rubbed against the nubs before twisting his upper body slightly to the left, reaching for the bedside table, for the tube that was always there. His movement brought the large, intricate tattoo on his right side into better view and Liam couldn’t resist bending down, the inked design his weakness. He traced his tongue over the fine lines and Damien shivered, pulling in a long breath, hips jerking as Liam continued his exploration of Damien’s hidden erogenous zone.

“Need you,” Damien ground out, hand cupping the top of Liam’s head.

Liam sat up again, seeing the open desire on Damien’s face, knew his expression matched his own.

“Need to be in you,” Damien whispered hoarsely.

Warmth curled low in Liam’s belly, his cock growing impossibly harder at the thought of taking Damien inside him and he reached for the tube in Damien’s hand. He coated the fingers of his right hand and reached back behind himself. He slipped a finger inside, giving a long exhale as he began sliding it in and out, getting himself ready for Damien’s cock.

Damien rested his hands on the tops of Liam’s thighs, breathing deep, Liam watching as his blue eyes grew dark, watching Liam open himself.

“Yeah…” Damien encouraged, his cock standing up from his body, the head flushed red.

Liam’s own cock jutted out proudly, leaking again as one finger became two, stretching, stimulating, until his body ached for Damien to be inside him and he could wait no longer. He withdrew his fingers with a soft groan, immediately reaching for Damien, who groaned as well as Liam slicked his cock, stroking firmly. He moved up Damien’s body then, straddling his stomach now and again reached behind him, this time for Damien’s cock.

He guided the swollen head to his entrance, rubbing against the tight ring of muscle, teasing them both, before slowly sinking down. Liam’s head fell back, his mouth opening with a long moan, echoed by Damien, as just the tip of his cock slipped inside.

Liam loved the first moment of penetration—the quick, sharp burn followed by nothing but pure pleasure. He worked himself down Damien’s thick length with short pumps of his hips, his body drawing Damien’s cock in, eager for more, until he had taken it all. He paused then, his breathing long and deep, soaking in the feeling of fullness.

“Feel so good,” Liam murmured.

“Fuck, I love being in you,” Damien replied, sliding his hands up Liam’s legs to rest on his hips.

Liam contracted his internal muscles around Damien’s cock and they both gasped.

“Gotta move…” Liam said and Damien flexed his fingers on his hips as he began to raise up on his knees.

“Slow…” Damien breathed.

Liam gave him a long nod and a smile. Damien had nothing to fear. He had no intention of rushing this. So he locked eyes with Damien as he rose up, until just the head of Damien’s cock remained inside him and then sank back down in one smooth motion. It pulled long sighs from them both, so Liam did it again and again, moving on top of Damien, their arousal growing with each passing moment.

Liam leaned forward, bracing his hands on the bed, on either side of Damien’s shoulders, changing the angle. The new position let him push back with his hips as Damien thrust up in counterpoint.

He groaned sharply as the head of Damien’s cock found the hidden spot deep inside with each thrust.

“There…” he gasped. “Right there…”

He pushed back harder, faster, bottom lip caught between his teeth as the first stirring of his orgasm began at the base of his spine. He was rushing toward release when Damien curled a warm hand around the base of his neck and drew him down.

“Not yet,” he breathed, kissing Liam deeply.

Then Liam’s world spun as Damien stilled his movements and rolled them, Damien now on top, unmoving. Liam whined in the back of his throat at the denial of his release, his cock hot and hard, trapped between their bodies.

“Slow…” Damien said again, heat in his eyes.

He shifted then, withdrawing nearly all the way before pushing back in. Liam arched up into him, wrapping his legs around Damien’s waist, his arms around his back. His heartbeat and breathing slowed, backing off from the edge of the cliff he had nearly fallen over. Time seemed to stop around them as they moved together in this slow, sensual dance, kissing again and again, bodies warm and relaxed.

So lost in the sensations Damien was creating inside him, Liam’s climax took him by surprise, suddenly rolling through him in one long wave. He cried out at the intensity, head pushing back into the pillow, shaking as he came.

“God…Liam…” Damien ground out, an instant before Liam felt his cock swell inside him.

Then Damien was coming as well in long pulses, filling Liam with heat, shuddering above him. Liam pulled him down flush against him, their mouths finding one another’s, holding each other as the tremors raced through them.

It was long moments later until they settled, still joined. Liam looked up at Damien and was struck by the depth of emotion in his eyes. Liam’s chest clenched again at the possibility of the danger Damien could be walking into tomorrow. Of all that he could lose.

“Stay safe,” he whispered.

Damien paused, swallowing hard. “I’m coming back,” he said, and sealed his promise with a kiss that filled Liam with hope.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien leaned back against the brick building on base, peering at his watch in the semi-dark—6:30 am. His military transport plane was leaving in fifteen minutes, and he should be mentally preparing himself for his first mission back, but his thoughts were elsewhere. It was quiet, most of the personnel just waking or already in the mess having breakfast. Damien took a long pull on his cigarette, uncharacteristically feeling very much alone. He had said goodbye to Liam in the pre-dawn hours with his mouth and his hands and his body, leaving him sleeping in his bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had someone waiting for him to come home. Someone he _wanted_ to come home to. And the emotions that stirred inside him caught him off-guard. At how deeply things were getting with Liam. How deeply he was falling for him.

“Hope you packed your sunscreen. I hear Kenya’s hot this time of year.”

Michael’s unexpected, teasing voice pulled Damien from his thoughts and he turned toward his partner with a grin. Make that two people he wanted to come home to.

“The fuck you doing here?”

Michael smiled, shrugging as Damien stubbed out his cigarette. “Came to see my mate off. Wish you luck on your first solo.”

Their smiles slowly faded as Michael’s words sunk in. At how wrong this was—this separation. Heavy, weighted silence hung in the early morning air until Michael stepped forward and pulled Damien in for a quick, fierce one-arm embrace that Damien returned.

Michael cleared his throat as they moved apart, but his voice was still rough, unknowingly echoing Liam’s words from last night. “Stay safe, Damien.”

“Wish you were going to be there to watch my back,” Damien replied honestly.

“I think Baxter’s got that covered quite thoroughly,” Michael teased, but with a grin that looked forced, with a flash of emotion on his face that mirrored Liam’s a few nights ago—jealousy.

It threw Damien for a heartbeat before he recovered with his own smart-ass reply. “Fuck you.” He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “See you soon, buddy.”

Another embrace, one that lingered longer than the first, then Damien walked away, forcing himself to not look back, confused thoughts tumbling through his head.


	4. Chapter 4

Liam snatched at his phone the second he saw Damien’s name on the display and hurried from the crib outside, around the corner of the building. He was still trying to comprehend how this “milk run” mission had gone both pear-shaped and sideways less than thirty minutes after it had begun. He’d never felt more helpless, unable to do anything but watch as Damien’s convoy was attacked, as five Section 20 operatives in the support vehicles were murdered and Damien nearly killed by a grenade. He’d been holding his breath until Damien called in, safe, from the British consulate there in Kenya just a few minutes ago.

“Damien!” Liam answered the phone.

He heard a low chuckle from the other end. _“Hey,”_ came Damien’s relaxed reply.

Liam shook his head. Damn the man for sounding so unconcerned about his situation. Especially after what General Bennett had just announced. But then again, this kind of situation was pretty much par for the course for an operative like Damien.

“You scared the living shit out of me,” Liam admitted.

_“Sorry,”_ Damien replied, sincerely this time. _“So much for the babysitting job, eh?”_

Liam blew out a long breath. “Is this usually how things go for you?”

Another chuckle. _“Yep, pretty much.”_

Liam smiled slightly. “Great. Thanks for the warning.” He let the smile slide away. “You’re all right, though?”

_“Yeah, just a few bumps and scratches. Got my bell rung. Nothing serious.”_

Liam’s mouth compressed. “Well things are about to get really serious,” he said. “Fuck Bennett for not letting us send you backup. Did you know that both General Bennett and Major Hodge were on the oversight committee for Twenty’s reinstatement? And I know from the grapevine that Hodge was against it.” He paused, angry. “This is a suicide mission, Damien. They want you to fail. They want Twenty shut down. And they’re willing to sacrifice you to make that happen.”

_“I know,”_ Damien answered. _“But I’m the only hope those two have of making it out alive. You know Waabri won’t turn them over if he gets the ransom. He’ll kill them, Liam. I have to try. I can’t just walk away from this.”_

As hard as it was to admit, Liam knew Damien was right. He exhaled sharply. “I wish there was more that I could do.”

_“Keep doing what you’re doing,”_ Damien answered. _“Your intel could make the difference between success and failure.”_

Liam grinned. “No pressure, eh?” he joked, then let the smile slide away. “Stay safe. And watch your back.”

Liam could hear the smile in Damien’s voice. _“Everyone keeps telling me that.”_ Then he turned serious. _“And I’ll keep telling you all that I’m coming back.”_

Liam latched onto Damien’s promise as he ended the call. “I’m going to hold you to that, mate.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien hadn’t been off the phone with Liam for more than five minutes when it rang. The corners of his mouth quirked and he shook his head at the name on the display—Michael Stonebridge.

“Let me guess,” he answered. “Liam called you.”

_“Did you really think I wasn’t going to ask him to keep me informed?”_

“Aww, nice to know you care, buddy,” Damien grinned, teasing his partner at his concern, but deep down he was glad to hear his voice.

_“What the fuck happened, Damien?”_

Damien dragged a hand down his face. “I never saw it coming, Mike,” he admitted. “A fucking ambush for ransom money? Christ…”

_“No one could have predicted that.”_

“But I should’ve been more on my guard. I fucked up, Mike. I didn’t take this mission seriously and I fucked up.”

_“Don’t do that to yourself.”_ Damien could hear the frustration in Michael’s next words. _“I should’ve been there.”_

“I could’ve used some help but that ain’t your problem,” Damien replied, then tried to keep it light. “Would’ve been fun having you there. But there’s a big difference between you and me and that’s Kerry. Say hi to her for me. Gotta go.”

There was silence on the other end for a long beat as Damien reminded Michael of the commitment he made to his wife. “Scott,” Michael finally said, and Damien could hear the concern in just that one word. “You take care, mate.”

Damien ended the call. Yeah, he was going to have to. He looked out over the desolate Kenyan landscape. He was now truly on a one-man mission. He thought of the “babysitting” job this was supposed to have been, how he’d wanted more action.

Careful what you wish for.

~*~*~*~*~*~

How had it all gone so wrong?

And under his watch. He was responsible for it all.

Michael took another long swallow of the amber liquid, relishing the burn of the whiskey all the way down his throat. The last two hours were still a blur—a mix of flashing lights, EMTs, military police and the rain. The endless rain. He didn’t even remember driving home. Just walking quietly inside so as to not wake Kerry and heading straight for the bottle of whiskey, desperately needing to remain in that blur. To try and forget he had just killed Jake Hanson.

He was vaguely aware of the ringing of the home phone, then Kerry was suddenly there in the kitchen with him, anguish on her face.

“They just called and told me. Are you okay?”

Michael’s voice caught in his throat. “No, I’m not okay. I’m not okay with any of it.”

Kerry held him then as he closed his eyes against the silent tears. She said nothing, just held him, and it was the first time in weeks he felt close to her. Felt true affection and concern from her, that all of their problems were suddenly insignificant, and he realized how much he had missed her.

“Come up to bed,” she whispered.

But he shook his head, cleared his throat as he straightened up, scrubbing at his face. “Not just yet. I need to be alone for a while.”

Kerry nodded, kissed the top of his head then turned and went back upstairs. Michael stood, taking the bottle and glass with him and went into the living room. He sat down heavily on the couch, poured himself another drink and swallowed it down. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

He was immediately transported back to the training camp, running outside into the dark, into the rain, chasing after Jake.

_“Hanson! Jake!”_

Michael saw the crazed look in Jake’s eyes, knew he wasn’t really there. He was trapped somewhere in his own mind. The second he turned away from Michael and back to the wounded Carter, lying on the ground, he knew without a doubt that Jake was going to kill him, too.

Michael was faster on the trigger.

Michael sat up with a gasp, shaking as the gunshot echoed in his mind, his empty glass tumbling from his hand and onto the floor. He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, his head in his hands. He desperately wished Damien were here. He needed someone to talk to about the shooting and he knew his partner would understand what he was thinking, feeling. He pulled out his phone but stopped himself before dialing. Damien didn’t need the distraction. Especially since his first mission was already a clusterfuck. He had enough on his mind without his problems as well. Michael set down his phone and picked up the bottle of whiskey instead.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Liam jogged across the quad on base, heading for the mess hall, hopelessly soaked from the rain. He’d missed the end of the dinner hour, but knew he could still grab a couple of sandwiches and coffee for he and Julia. Both of them were in need of food and caffeine and had a short break for them both while Damien was moving into position in Mogadishu.

He stepped through the doors of the mess and shook his head, water droplets flying all around him. The large room was still half full with his fellow soldiers finishing their supper. Or so he thought. But no one was eating, everyone talking in groups and Liam immediately sensed the undercurrent of anger and disbelief. Something was wrong.

Before he could approach anyone, someone hustled up to him.

“Baxter!”

It was Corporal Quinn, another computer ops specialist from Liam’s former unit. “What the bloody hell is going on?” Liam asked.

Quinn’s eyes widened. “You didn’t hear what happened at the SAS camp tonight?”

Liam’s pulse leapt, a feeling of dread creeping over him. “No, I’ve been in Twenty’s crib all night.”

Quinn shook his head. “It was Jake Hanson. Bloody bastard went mental during a live-fire exercise. Nutter killed one, wounded two. Would have finished off Carter if not for Sergeant Stonebridge taking him out. You know him, don’t you? Stonebridge?”

Liam’s head was pounding, his throat gone dry. Michael…Jesus Christ…

“Yeah…yeah, I know him,” Liam answered distractedly, already backing up toward the doors. “I’ve got to go…”

He spun away from Quinn and shouldered open the door, pausing in the vestibule to sag back against the wall, pinching his eyes closed. Michael killed Jake Hanson. He and Damien both knew Jake wasn’t up to par, but this? To murder his own teammate? It was incomprehensible. Michael must be shattered.

He pulled out his phone to call Damien and tell him what had happened. But he paused before dialing. No, as hard as it was going to be to keep this from him, Damien didn’t need his focus on anything but this mission. Especially now that he was truly on his own.

He wanted to go see Michael in person, but he had to be back at the crib, providing intel to Damien. So instead he dialed Michael’s number, wondering if he would even answer. To his surprise, Michael did.

_“Liam.”_

Michael’s voice was hollow and Liam’s chest tightened. “Michael…I just heard about Jake. Are you hurt, mate?”

_“No. No, I’m fine.”_

“There’s no way you’re fine,” Liam replied gently. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

Michael made a noise and Liam could tell he was trying not to break down. _“I appreciate that,”_ he answered, voice thick. “_I just need some time to process all of this.”_

“None of this was your fault, Michael. You’re not to blame.”

There was a long pause and then a subject change. _“How’s Damien?”_

Liam didn’t miss that Michael didn’t respond to what he’d said. But if he was asking about Damien it meant that Michael hadn’t talked to him and also wanted to keep this from him. For now. “He’s okay. He’s in Mogadishu now, getting ready to stake out a meeting between Waaburi and the Libyan.”

_“You’d best go keep an eye on him, then.”_

“I will. But I’m just on the other end of the phone. I’m sure there’s going to be an inquiry. Please let me know what happens.”

_“I will,”_ Michael answered. _“And Liam…thank you.”_

Liam tucked the phone back in his pocket and tipped his head against the wall. He hurt for Michael, at this terrible burden he would always bear. Even though he had done no wrong. He sighed, then straightened up and took a long breath, tucking his worry for Michael alongside his worry for Damien and headed back to the crib, hoping somehow, someway, he could help them both.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ten minutes later Liam was standing ramrod straight behind his desk, a white-knuckled grip on the edge as he watched helpless, once again, as Damien was surrounded by a mob, beaten and taken captive by Waaburi’s men.

“He’s alive.”

Julia’s voice cut through the fog in Liam’s head.

“Major. Major?” she said, trying to get Sinclair’s attention.

He finally took his eyes from the video screen and turned to her. “You heard what the General said. He’s the last man in.”

“Section 20—“ Julia started, but Sinclair cut her off.

“There’s nothing else we can do,” he stated tersely, then turned and walked away.

Liam was stunned at Sinclair’s reaction. That he wouldn’t do everything he could to rescue Damien, orders be damned. He turned to Julia, saw the same determination in her eyes, unspoken communication passing between them. Section 20 did not leave a man behind. The hell they were abandoning Damien.

Julia nodded at him. “Do it.”

Liam pulled out his phone.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The ringing of his phone pulled Michael from his fitful sleep and he slipped out of the bedroom without waking Kerry. He picked up his phone from the table in the hallway where it had been charging. As soon as he saw Liam’s name on the display, he instinctively knew something was wrong.

“Liam. What is it?”

_“Michael, I’m sorry,”_ Liam began, his voice tight. _“I wouldn’t be calling now if it wasn’t serious.”_

“Damien?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

_“He’s been captured by Waaburi.”_

Michael’s jaw tightened. “Shit…”

_“We’ve been told by General Bennett that Damien was the last man in,”_ Liam continued. _“Sinclair said there’s nothing we can do.”_

Liam didn’t make the request outright, but he didn’t need to. His partner was in trouble. So he jumped at the opportunity to not only save Damien, to get back out in the field, but to try and forget for at least a little while what happened with Jake.

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he answered. “And Liam? Does Sinclair know what happened with me and Hanson tonight?”

A pause. _“He hasn’t left the crib all night, so I don’t believe so.”_

“Good. Let’s keep it that way. Hopefully he won’t find out until I’m out of the country.”

_“I understand. I’ll do what I can.”_

“I’ll be there shortly.”

Michael hung up and strode into the spare room, searching for his go-bag from his days with Twenty, still packed and ready to go. As if he had known he wasn’t quite through with his old unit yet. From another box that contained the contents of his old locker he pulled out a t-shirt and jeans and changed out of his tank top and sleep pants. He took a breath as he picked up the duffel bag. He had to wake Kerry and tell her he was leaving.

But as he stepped out into the hallway, she was standing there in her pajamas. She took in the bag he was carrying, the clothes he was now wearing.

Her brows drew together. “Michael?”

He steeled himself. “I have to go.”

“You can’t be serious,” she said in disbelief. “It’s the coroner’s hearing tomorrow, the inquiry.”

“It’s Damien,” he replied. “He’s in trouble.”

“Damien will _always_ be in trouble,” she retorted derisively.

He hoisted the duffle bag onto his shoulder. “Just let me do this one thing and I’ll be home.”

“Home?” she scoffed. “This isn’t our home. You haven’t even unpacked half your stuff. There’s still boxes in the nursery.”

Michael glanced away at that as she continued. “If there was a baby in there, would you still leave?” she demanded, and he looked back at her for a long moment, eyes hard, then turned away without a word.

“Or maybe you’re relieved I had a miscarriage.”

He came to a stop at the top of the stairs, her raw statement a punch to his gut. He stood there for a heartbeat, unable to even form a reply, before finally turning away, this time continuing down the stairs and out of the house without stopping, her apology ringing in his ears.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A riot of emotions continued to tumble through Michael as he drove to the base, Kerry’s hurtful words echoing in his head. With just two sentences she had severed the connection he felt they were beginning to form again just a few hours ago. He had told Damien he didn’t think he could fix what was wrong between he and Kerry. He felt that now more than ever. And if he were being honest, things had been falling apart between them for a long time. Which is why he had turned to Kate. The miscarriage just seemed to be the last straw.

He thought of Damien and Liam. He was jealous at what they had together—their happiness, just enjoying being with each other. Having someone to care for, care about.

But now that happiness, and Damien, was in jeopardy. And Michael couldn’t help but think it was his fault. If he had never left Twenty then he would have been there to have his partner’s back and his life wouldn’t be on the line. If he had never left Twenty he would never have killed Jake Hanson. It all came back to him. And he needed to make it right.

So he took a breath and squared his shoulders. He was going to do whatever it took to save Damien and bring him back to Liam.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a long flight back to London.

But not as long as the full day he spent in Mogadishu. One he thought none of them were going to survive. Not after the clusterfuck the mission had turned into.

Patrick Burton was dead. Rachel McMillian was really Rachel Dalton. _Captain_ Rachel Dalton of British Military Intelligence. And a hostage rescue mission suddenly became a hunt for missing nuclear triggers. Which were now in the wind.

There had been a moment there, right before the African Union Army appeared that Michael was certain he was going to die. But he couldn’t lie to himself—it had been a rush to be back in the field. He’d missed it. He’d missed working alongside Damien, missed their back-and-forth banter, joking despite the danger they were in. If he was going to go out, that was how he wanted it to be.

But Liam and Sinclair had come through and he was still here. And so were his teammates. Though he was sure that Damien wished Dalton was not among them. And he didn’t blame him one bit. She was a piece of work. And thankfully she was keeping her distance, staying up near the front of the plane with the military pilots.

Across from him, Julia had made herself a nest of duffle bags and blankets and promptly went to sleep. Michael envied her. Unable to quiet his mind, sleep taunted him. He turned his head slightly to where Damien sat next to him, their shoulders just brushing. His partner’s eyes were closed but Michael knew he wasn’t asleep. He looked back forward, staring unseeingly at the drab metal of the plane’s walls, his thoughts bouncing between Jake and Kerry and his partner. Damien was a warm, solid presence beside him and Michael resisted the urge to lean more fully against him. As he had since the first moment they met.

Michael blew out a long breath. Damien. It was quiet moments like this when he let himself acknowledge the true feelings he had for his partner. The attraction he felt. He hadn’t been with a man since before Kerry, but the moment he laid eyes on Damien, fighting in the ring in Kuala Lumpur, he was flooded with pure desire like he’d never experienced. It shook him, and when they locked eyes there was no doubt the feeling was mutual. Then a short while later, in Damien’s room, he was sure they were going to act on it. And then he saw Damien’s eyes catch sight of his wedding ring. And just like that, a switch was flipped. A flashing neon sign that Michael was off-limits in Damien’s book. Having an affair wasn’t something that Damien approved of, as Michael learned fairly quickly with his rebuke of Michael’s dalliance with Kate. The guilt he made him feel about cheating on Kerry.

But Michael’s attraction to Damien didn’t diminish. In fact it only grew as he got past Damien’s asshole exterior and discovered the loyal soldier, and friend, beneath the surface.

But that’s all Damien would be—a soldier, a friend. A fantasy.

Kerry was his reality. Her last words to him about the miscarriage still weighed heavy on him, angry and sick over her accusation. But deep down he knew there was truth in her words. And he felt incredible guilt over it. Michael had been putting his needs, his wants, ahead of hers for countless years as he went off to play soldier, leaving her all alone at home. Of course she wanted a child. And a husband there to raise it with her. She wasn’t asking him to leave the service, just take a less dangerous position. She wasn’t being selfish. He was. He needed to start making the effort to become the husband, and hopefully the father, she needed him to be.

“Stop it.”

Damien’s voice pulled Michael from his thoughts and he turned to him, Damien’s eyes still closed. “Stop what?”

“Thinking so fucking hard.” He exhaled and opened his eyes. “Let me guess. Jake Hanson.”

Michael looked away. Damien’s guess was wrong, but Michael couldn’t run away from this topic forever. He had an official inquiry waiting for him when he returned. He was going to be held accountable for his actions very shortly. And he could very well be dishonorably discharged from the service.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Damien apologized. “Asked you how you let it get that far with him.”

Michael shook his head. “No, you’re right. It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not.” Damien replied firmly. “All you wanted to do was help him, make him a better soldier. To not let him fail. You’re a good man like that, Michael. You had no idea he was fighting demons in his head. None of this is on you. You hear me?”

And Michael did. He heard the truth in Damien’s words and they gave him hope that his career might not be over. “You’re doing it again.”

Damien’s brow furrowed. “Doing what again?”

Michael tried to hide a grin. “Talking like a grown up. I fucking hate it.”

Damien barked out a laugh. “Told you it happens sometimes.” He knocked his shoulder against Michael’s. “While I’m in a grown-up mood, what other sage advice can I bestow upon you, Mikey?”

No matter how much he pretended to complain about Damien’s sudden bouts of being absolutely serious, he truly did value his partner’s opinion. And he felt safe opening up to him about very personal matters.

“You asked me how I sold it to Kerry. I didn’t. Not really. I just…walked out. As I did she asked me if I was relieved she’d had a miscarriage.”

Damien’s smile disappeared and he leaned forward, his forearms resting on the top of his thighs, his expression full of compassion. “She’s hurting,” he said quietly. “She’s angry. You both are. And you’re both saying things you don’t mean.”

Michael shook his head. “She wasn’t wrong. Because for the briefest second, I _was_ glad. I resented her, Damien,” he admitted. “For making me choose between her and this,” he swept his arm out in front of him. “I wanted them both. But I know now I can’t. I love this life, but I have to stop putting my needs before hers. I’ve been doing that for much too long,” he finished, but his words rang hollow to his own ears, as if he was trying too hard to convince himself.

Damien was silent for a long moment before slowly nodding. “It’s been fun having you around, but Kerry’s the one that needs you,” he replied.

Damien’s small smile was fleeting and wistful, tinged with a sense of resignation, of loss. And then it was gone as he gave Michael’s arm a brief squeeze before leaning back and closing his eyes.

Michael was struck with the same feeling of loss as well as he said the words, made his decision. Now that Twenty was back on active duty, he would see less and less of his partner. And one day Damien might never return. His chest tightened and he pulled in an uneven breath.

He thought of Kerry, of Damien, of himself.

He hoped he’d made the right choice.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien shook his head, sending water droplets flying. He hadn’t had a shower in…he didn’t remember when. Definitely not since leaving for Somalia. He scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling the sting in the various cuts and scrapes that dotted his body as he rinsed off the last of the soap. He was originally going to head straight to the crib to see Liam, but then thought better of showing up in dirty, torn clothes and covered in dried blood. So both he and Michael decided to make a pit stop in the locker room on base first.

Finally clean, he shut off the hot water and grabbed his towel, running it briefly over himself before wrapping it around his waist. He glanced to his right as he stepped out and saw Michael, head tipped back, still soaking under the spray. Damien padded out of the shower room and turned left, heading for his locker and fresh clothes. But he didn’t take more than two steps and suddenly Liam was standing in front of him. Before Damien could say a word, Liam snagged his arm and practically dragged him into the supply closet.

Damien laughed as Liam pushed him up against a rack full of rolls of toilet paper, then groaned as Liam claimed his mouth for a hard, deep kiss. His body responded instantly, as did Liam’s, from what Damien could feel through his uniform pants.

Damien gave him a cocky smile when they pulled apart a long minute later, breathing hard. “Miss me?” he quipped with a wink.

Liam shook his head, grinning. “Wanker,” he snarked right back before dropping to his knees and yanking off Damien’s towel.

“Fuck _me_…” Damien exhaled sharply, head falling back into the toilet paper as Liam’s warm mouth took him in. “Oh, it’s good to be home…”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Liam turned his head from side to side, looking for Damien as Sinclair prepared to address the unit. After their quickie in the supply closet, Damien told him he was going to wait for Michael. He wanted to talk to him before Michael went home to change clothes and then head to the coroner’s inquest. Liam frowned. If Damien didn’t get here soon, Sinclair was going to have his head.

“I want to offer my thanks for all your hard work and dedication during this difficult period,” Sinclair began.

Out of the corner of his eye, Liam saw Damien stroll in like he owned the place and he shook his head.

“These are trying times for a section like ours,” Sinclair continued and Liam watched as Damien first went over to Julia and whispered something in her ear that Liam couldn’t hear.

“And the discipline of each and every one of you, both in the field and in command has been, as I would expect, exemplarily.”

Sinclair paused and Damien sidled over to Liam with a sly smile. The cocky bastard reached out his hand and shook Liam’s. “Baxter. Nice work,” he said, acting as though they were simply colleagues and that Liam hadn’t been sucking him off not ten minutes ago.

Liam rolled his eyes as Damien wandered back over to Julia and stood still, finally giving his attention to Sinclair.

“This hasn’t gone unnoticed, and as we will be engaging in more operational work, command has decided as of today…that Section 20 requires new leadership following the death of Colonel Grant.” Sinclair paused again and Liam furrowed his brow. New leadership? Was Sinclair being replaced? If so, with who and why?

A moment later his questions were answered as Rachel Dalton appeared, stepping forward.

“Some of you already know Captain Dalton. I’m sorry, _Major_ Dalton,” Sinclair announced and Liam’s jaw dropped.

“Good morning, everyone,” Dalton said smugly, radiating superiority, and Liam’s gaze hardened. Section 20 was reporting to _her_ now?

“Are you shitting me?”

Damien’s angry, incredulous voice cut through the ranks and he took a threatening step forward. Liam moved quickly, taking one long step sideways and put himself in front of Damien, a firm hand on his chest, halting his movement. Damien shot him a furious look and Liam shook his head sharply. “Don’t, mate,” he warned under his breath, locking eyes with Damien until Damien backed down. But if looks could kill, Rachel Dalton would be dead on the floor.

Liam turned to face forward again, Damien still radiating anger beside him, and had to clench his own fists at the smug smile Dalton still wore, deliberately aimed at Damien.

“We’ll have a formal briefing tomorrow,” she announced. “But for now, I’m looking forward to working with all of you. Dismissed.”

Jaw muscle jumping, Damien spun and strode out of the crib without a word. And after casting a concerned glance at Julia, Liam followed after him, preparing himself for the meltdown he knew was coming.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien was still fuming when they arrived at Liam’s flat after a silent, tense walk across the base. Damien used his key and let them both in, tossing it on the small table in the entryway before heading to the kitchen. He went straight for the refrigerator and yanked out two beers. He thrust one at Liam before violently twisting the cap off his own and draining half the contents before coming up for air. He slammed the bottle down on the kitchen countertop.

“Fucking bitch,” he cursed. “She could’ve gotten us all fucking killed! And now we’re fucking _working_ for her?”

Liam moved beside Damien, setting his untouched beer down. He didn’t blame Damien’s anger one bit. “The way she conducted herself was way out of line,” he agreed. “And yeah, working for her…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “You have every right to be pissed.”

Damien just grunted as he picked up his beer again and finished it off before slapping his hands down on the countertop and staring at its surface, caught up in his anger, lost in his thoughts.

Frustrated, Liam blew out a breath and left the kitchen, going to stand in front of the living room window. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. This was _not_ how he had planned for things to go when Damien returned home.

Damien joined him a minute later, a warm hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?” he asked quietly.

Liam shrugged. “Nothing. I just…this isn’t exactly the welcome home I was thinking of for you.”

He could visibly see Damien let go of his irritation at Liam’s insinuation. He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh? And what exactly were you thinking of?” he smirked.

Liam felt himself relax and gave Damien a slow grin as he stepped closer and curled a hand around the back of Damien’s neck. “This…” he breathed, capturing Damien’s mouth with his own.

The quickie in the supply closet had been good, but that’s what it had to be—quick. This…this was much better, Liam decided as their bodies melted into each other’s embrace. The kiss started off slow, growing more heated in increments until they were rocking against one another, rubbing their growing erections together, hands roaming, mouths slanting across each other’s until they had to finally break apart for breath. Damien’s clear blue eyes were dark again, but this time from arousal and not anger.

“We’re off to a good start,” Damien grinned. “What else did you have planned…?”

Liam tipped his head. “It’s too bad you already took a shower, because I thought…”

Damien didn’t let him finish the sentence, stepping backwards slightly and stripping off his navy blue t-shirt, tossing it in the general direction of the sofa. “Oh, I’m sure I’m still dirty,” he insisted, making Liam laugh. “In fact I know I am.” He pulled Liam close again, his lips against Liam’s ear, his voice a deep rumble. “Care to wash my back, Sergeant Baxter?”

“Hmm…” Liam murmured, sliding one hand down the back of Damien’s well-worn jeans, inside his boxer briefs to cup his ass, his finger dipping into the crease. “And all those other hard to reach places, Sergeant Scott?”

Damien pulled in a quick breath. “Oh fuck yes, especially those.” He leaned in and kissed Liam hard.

“Let’s go give you a proper wash then, eh?” Liam teased as he stepped back and removed his green uniform shirt.

Damien winked as he reached for his belt, walking backwards. “Hope you’ve got plenty of soap.”

Liam followed, both of them wearing nothing but a smile by the time they reached the bathroom, a trail of clothes scattered behind them.

They practically stumbled into the shower, kissing, Damien’s hand slapping at the handle until water cascaded down on them. They both yelped and Damien scrambled to adjust the temperature until warm water replaced the cold.

“That’s better,” Liam smiled as they stepped more fully under the spray.

Damien shook his head, eyes still dark. “No, _this_ is better,” he replied, claiming Liam’s mouth as he pressed him against the white tile.

Liam hummed in approval, wrapping his arms around Damien’s hard, warm body, letting the water flow sensuously over them. He let his hands slide down over the curve of Damien’s ass, cupping, flexing, encouraging Damien to move. He didn’t know why sex in the water was such a turn-on, but he was glad Damien felt the same way, as he began to rock against Liam, rolling his hips.

Liam’s hands roamed over Damien’s slick, bare skin as their cocks grew and hardened, rubbing against each other, trapped between their bodies. Steam was rising, wrapping them in mist as Liam eased back from the kiss. As much as he wanted to be buried inside Damien, he wanted this to last a little longer.

Damien made an unhappy noise in the back of his throat at the lack of kissing and Liam chuckled as he reached for the body wash, holding it up to him. Damien raised an eyebrow again and Liam grinned as he squirted some of the gel into his palm, set the bottle back on the shelf and created a lather.

Liam turned them then, Damien now against the tile wall, and began a sensual exploration of Damien’s body with his soap-covered hands. His fingers didn’t miss a spot as he slowly washed Damien. He started with Damien’s neck, his shoulders, across his collarbone, all the while taking care around the various scrapes and bruises that dotted Damien’s skin. A reminder of all that he had been through, and survived, over the past few days. Liam stopped for a moment, brushing a thumb gently across the bruise under Damien’s right eye, then over the small cuts on his neck. Damien’s expression was almost confused, as if he were unused to such tenderness and concern. Then his blue eyes softened and he drew Liam in for a deep, lingering kiss as the warm water enveloped them both.

When they parted there was heat in Damien’s eyes, their erections once again making themselves known, bumping against one another. Liam turned his attention to Damien’s chest then, smoothing his hands over the wet skin, rubbing his thumbs over both nipples, stimulating them until they were hard peaks and Damien groaned, hands coming to rest on Liam’s hips. Liam let his soapy hands travel further, down firm abs, fingers swirling over Damien’s tattoo, then lower still. He leaned in for another kiss, swallowing down Damien’s low moan as one of Liam’s slick hands curled around his hard cock, the other cupping his heavy balls.

Liam’s tongue tangled with Damien’s, sliding in and out of Damien’s mouth, telegraphing his desire as he stroked Damien’s cock and rolled his balls in his sac. Damien groaned again, hands squeezing Liam’s hips, trying to thrust his own up into Liam’s grip. Liam shifted then, giving Damien’s balls a gentle tug before sliding that hand around to Damien’s ass. He slid his finger down the crease, searching for the small, puckered muscle hidden there. Damien kissed him harder when he found it, rubbing and pressing against it until just the tip of his wet finger slipped inside.

Damien broke the kiss with a gasp, his cock throbbing in Liam’s grip as Liam’s finger slid in farther. “Oh _fuck_,” Damien ground out. “Do it, do it…fuck, I want it…” he rambled as Liam pushed his finger in and out, the water running over both their bodies, rising away the soap.

Liam withdrew, his own cock rock hard now, giving Damien’s a final stroke before kissing him quick and hard and turning him around. Damien’s hands slapped down on the tile as he bent over slightly at the waist, canting his hips backwards, spreading his legs. Liam briefly molded himself over Damien’s back, dropping a kiss onto the large abrasion there as he reached around to again stroke Damien’s cock. Damien bucked into the touch with a sharp breath and Liam’s fingers were suddenly sticky with precome. He gave one last stroke, drawing out more fluid then straightened up, licking his fingers clean. His cock pulsed at Damien’s taste and he took his erection in hand, first brushing it against Damien’s balls then sliding it up and down the crease in Damien’s ass, the swollen head pressing against Damien’s entrance, teasing them both.

Damien tipped his head back with a deep groan as Liam dropped to his knees, his hands on Damien’s ass, spreading him open. He knew Damien loved this. Hell, he loved it, too. So he wasted no time, leaning in, his tongue darting out to lick slowly and firmly across Damien’s entrance.

“Yes…” Damien hissed, his entire body shuddering.

Liam moaned softly as he tasted Damien, laving his tongue over and over the small, puckered muscle, driving their arousal higher and higher, enveloped in warm water and gentle steam.

Damien was shifting restlessly now at the stimulation. “Feels so good…” he murmured, then groaned sharply as Liam pushed his tongue past the ring of muscle. “Again!” he gasped.

Liam was more than willing to comply, fucking Damien with his tongue until he felt tremors racing under Damien’s skin, felt his own heavy balls throbbing with the need to come.

“Liam…_please_…” Damien pleaded gruffly, and Liam’s cock released a stream of precome at the raw desire in his voice.

He pushed his tongue in deep one more time, then replaced it with two wet fingers as he stood, stretching Damien further for just a moment. Then his slick cock took his finger’s place. He paused, drawing out the moment for them both, then watched as Damien’s body took him in, as the swollen head of his cock slipped inside.

Twin groans echoed against the shower walls as they joined so intimately together, as Liam filled Damien so completely. Liam wanted to take a beat, to soak in the sensation of being surrounded by Damien’s tight heat, but the urge to move was too great. He grasped Damien’s hips and rolled his own back, sliding nearly all the way out of Damien before pushing back in, as deep as he could go, in one smooth motion.

“Damien…” Liam breathed harshly, already feeling his control slipping.

“Yeah, just like that,” Damien panted, looking over his shoulder, pure desire radiating from his blue eyes. “Don’t stop.”

So Liam didn’t, giving up the battle to make this last, both of them too aroused from the extended foreplay, the stimulation, their separation. He moved in and out of Damien, faster, harder, deeper. Their slick, wet skin slid together, the cascading water heightening the sensation as they raced to the top of the cliff.

Liam heard Damien’s breath catch in his throat, knew he was close and wanted to feel him fall apart, fall over the edge with him. Still thrusting, he reached around Damien with one hand and found his straining cock. Holding Damien close, he stroked him once, twice…

“_Liam_…” Damien groaned sharply, and a split second later he was coming, his cock throbbing in Liam’s palm, coating his fingers and the wall with his release.

Then suddenly Liam was right there with him, falling over the edge with a shout, his cock pulsing as his climax overtook him in a rush. Damien groaned again as Liam filled him, reaching behind him to grasp Liam’s ass and hold him tight against him as he came. They shook together for a long moment until they were spent and boneless. Liam regretfully slipped from Damien’s body then and Damien sighed at the loss as he turned around and drew Liam to him. They kissed languidly until their skin wrinkled and they turned off the water.

“Welcome home,” Liam grinned.

Damien chuckled and winked. “Remind me to leave and come back more often. I could get used to this.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Liam slid under the sheet next to Damien, their naked bodies still slightly damp. They rolled to their sides, facing one another, hands slowly roaming over warm bodies, kissing lazily again. Liam trailed his fingers lightly over a scrape on Damien’s chest, lines of worry creasing his forehead.

“I’m glad you came back in one piece.”

Damien huffed out a breath. “Almost didn’t. Touch and go there for a while.” He paused. “It was you that called Mike, wasn’t it?”

Liam nodded. “But it was both Julia and I. We said screw both Bennett and Sinclair. We weren’t going to leave you there.”

Damien cupped the side of Liam’s face, his voice low, sincere. “You saved my life.”

“Couldn’t let you fail on your first solo mission,” Liam smiled.

But Damien’s blue eyes held a weight of seriousness. “You gave me a reason not to.”

Liam was taken aback at the apparent underlying message Damien was trying to convey. He and Damien had never defined their relationship. They were simply enjoying being with one another, keeping it casual with no expectations, no promises. But Liam would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit he was falling hard for Damien Scott. Was he trying to tell him the same thing? That this was becoming serious for him as well?

Before Liam could even form a reply, Damien’s phone began ringing, breaking the moment. Damien brushed his thumb across Liam’s cheek before sliding out of bed to fetch his phone, still in his pants pocket out in the living room.

“Hey, buddy,” Liam heard him say, and then Damien was walking back into the room, sitting back down on the bed, listening to Michael.

Damien smiled. “See, I told you that you didn’t have anything to worry about.” A pause. “Yeah, he’s here,” he said, glancing over to Liam. “I’ll let him know. Why do I hear kids yelling? Where are you?” He nodded. “Ah, gotcha. Okay, Mikey, tell Kerry we said Hi and we’ll talk to you later.”

Liam lifted his eyebrows in question as Damien set the phone down on the bedside table and stretched out next to him.

“Mike’s been cleared of any wrong-doing in Jake Hanson’s death.”

Liam gave a long exhale. “I’m sure he’s relieved. He can try and start to put this behind him. But it won’t be easy. He needs Kerry’s support now more than ever.”

Damien nodded. “He told me on the flight back that he wants to fix things, give it another try. They’re taking a walk in the park right now, so I’m hoping that’s a sign they’re talking.”

Liam cocked his head. “Can I ask you a question?”

Damien shrugged. “Sure.”

“How do you know Christy Bryant? Dalton said something about you and the eight years after Iraq. Was she implying you worked for the CIA?”

Damien’s entire body tensed, his expression shuttering, and Liam realized he’d unknowingly hit a nerve with his curiosity.

“Forget you heard me say any of that.”

Liam blinked at Damien’s hard, flat tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Damien sighed, his features softening, but Liam could see a shadow of pain, and shame, in the depths of his eyes and he wondered now more than ever about Damien’s secret past.

“That’s a part of my life I don’t talk about,” he finally said. “But I will. Someday. Just…not today.”

Despite his curiosity, Liam shook his head. “You don’t ever have to.”

“I’m not proud of that time of my life,” Damien explained, voice full of regret. “I’m not that person anymore. I don’t want your opinion of me to change.”

Liam felt the need to try and lighten the unintentional dark moment he’d brought upon Damien.

“You mean brash, arrogant, asshole bad boy?” he said, trying to keep a straight face and failing.

It worked, Damien’s eyes going wide before he barked out a laugh and rolled Liam underneath him. “Bad boy, huh? Well, let me show you just how bad,” he smirked.

And he proceeded to do just that.


	6. Chapter 6

_“Damien…Kerry’s dead…”_

Michael’s incomprehensible words chased themselves around in Damien’s head, struggling to process them as he sat next to his partner on a bench in the park. They were surrounded by police, Kerry’s body covered in a tarp, Michael covered in her blood. He had finished telling what had happened for seemingly the tenth time to as many Detective Inspectors and now he sat, completely devoid of emotion, shut down, his hazel eyes vacant as he looked out unseeingly over the park. At his wife’s body.

The whole scene was surreal to Damien. Such a bright, sunny day juxtaposed with tragedy. With as much death as he had been around for the majority of his adult life you’d think this would be commonplace for him, barely provoking a reaction. But not when it was so utterly personal to him. He was devastated by Kerry’s death. No, her _murder_. Because that’s what this was. She was targeted.

By Craig Hanson.

Michael was adamant of that fact, even though he hadn’t actually seen Hanson at the park. But there was no doubt in Michael’s mind that this was revenge for Jake’s death. That killing Michael himself would have been too easy. He wanted Michael to suffer.

And if that was Hanson’s endgame, it was working. Damien sighed deeply, sliding an arm across Michael’s upper back, his heart breaking for his partner. He gently squeezed Michael’s shoulder.

“Come on, Mike,” he said softly. “There’s nothing more you can do here.”

Michael was still for a long moment before finally turning those vacant eyes on Damien, and his chest clenched. He squeezed Michael’s shoulder again and stood, drawing Michael up with him, leading him wordlessly out of the park and to Michael’s car. He got his partner in the passenger seat, then hesitated when he got behind the wheel. His first thought was to take Michael home but then discarded it. Being there, surrounded by memories of Kerry might be more than Michael could handle right now. So instead Damien turned the car toward his own flat on base.

Michael was silent the entire trip, moving on auto-pilot as Damien got him inside, out of his blood-soaked clothes and into the shower. As Michael washed himself mechanically, Damien disposed of the soiled shirt and pants and laid out a clean pair of gray sweat pants and white t-shirt of his own for Michael to wear.

The look of utter exhaustion on Michael’s face when he emerged from the bathroom tore at Damien. He reached out and lay a hand on the top of Michael’s shoulder. “Why don’t you get some rest?” he encouraged.

A pause, then a short nod and they both moved down the hallway to Damien’s bedroom. Damien drew back the blanket and top sheet and Michael sank down onto the mattress. Damien sat on the side of the bed beside him as Michael stared up at the ceiling. He couldn’t even fathom what Michael was feeling. The overwhelming sense of loss. He swallowed thickly, curling a hand around Michael’s arm.

“I’m so sorry, Mike. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Michael remained silent, so Damien started to rise, but stopped when Michael lay a hand on his leg, looking up at him with pain-filled eyes.

“Damien…thank you…” he whispered brokenly.

Damien squeezed Michael’s hand, his throat tight, and received an answering squeeze in return as he nodded then stood as Michael closed his eyes.

Damien shut the bedroom door softly behind him and walked into the living room, going to stand in front of the window as he pulled out his phone from his pants pocket and dialed Liam.

_“Damien,”_ Liam answered quickly.

Damien released a shaky breath, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Hey.”

_“How is he?”_

“Typical stoic Michael. Holding it all in,” Damien replied. “But he’s a mess, Liam. I’m really fucking worried about him. There’s rage under his grief. He’s convinced that Craig Hanson murdered Kerry. And I can’t say that I disagree with him.”

_“He is the only obvious choice, isn’t he?”_ Liam said. _“I can’t imagine Kerry had any enemies. Unless it’s someone else from Michael’s past? I’m sure he’s definitely made his fair share of enemies.”_

Damien shook his head. “They would’ve just taken him out. No, this was personal. They wanted Mike to have to live with the loss. Like Craig is with Jake.”

_“Julia and I are monitoring the police investigation. The minute we hear something I’ll let you know.”_ Liam paused, his voice softening. _“Is there anything else I can do? I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there…”_ he trailed off.

“I do,” Damien replied truthfully. “But I think it might be better if you don’t,” he continued. “If Mike does finally break down…”

_“He doesn’t need an audience,”_ Liam finished. _“I understand.”_

Knowing the doubt Liam harbored about the true nature of his relationship with Michael, Damien was afraid Liam was taking this the wrong way. “Liam—“

_“I do understand, Damien. Truly,”_ Liam said, and Damien heard the sincerity in his voice. _“He’ll be more comfortable with only you there. Just…call me if you need me.”_

“I will.”

_“Tell Michael the whole section is thinking about him.”_

They ended the call and Damien tucked his phone back in his pocket, staring out the window at the summer afternoon. He thought of Kerry. Of her beaming smile. Of her bright laughter. Gone now. Ripped away. He thought of Michael. Of his child. Of his wife. Gone now. Ripped away.

Damien covered his eyes with his hand and let the silent tears fall.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Over the next two days, Michael became a walking time bomb that Damien didn’t know how to diffuse. He could only wait for the explosion.

And as he kept a close eye on his partner today, standing under a gray, rainy sky at Kerry’s funeral, he knew the explosion was imminent. Because as of an hour ago, the police had positively identified Craig Hanson as Kerry’s killer.

Damien could see the rage building inside of Michael as he accepted condolences at the grave site. Even though he hadn’t been with Michael every moment the last few days, he was absolutely certain Michael had yet to begin to express or process his grief. Not a single tear had been shed during the entire service.

Damien watched as countless members of Section 20 approached Michael before leaving the cemetery, expressing their sorrow at his loss. A tearful Julia stepped up to Michael and embraced him warmly, speaking softly to him, but Michael’s expression remained closed-off even as he returned the embrace. As Julia stepped away, she shot a worried glance at Damien. His mouth tightened as he nodded at her, acknowledging her concern.

Liam was the last of the mourners to approach, dressed in a black suit nearly identical to Michael and Damien’s own. He hadn’t really known Kerry, but there was still grief in his blue eyes for Michael. He clasped Michael’s hand warmly then drew him in as Julia had. He saw Michael’s eyes close briefly and he leaned into Liam before straightening up, his expression once again shuttered.

Liam squeezed Michael’s arm before walking over to Damien, as Michael turned to the priest that had performed the ceremony.

“I’m worried about him, Damien,” Liam said quietly. “Getting confirmation it was Craig Hanson…”

Damien sighed deeply. “I know. And God knows what’s going through his head. Though I can pretty well guess. But he won’t talk to me.”

Liam tipped his head toward Michael, now standing alone next to Kerry’s grave. “Go,” he told Damien. “Don’t leave him alone. Especially today. He needs you, even if he won’t admit it.”

Damien turned grateful eyes on Liam for his continued understanding. He cupped the side of Liam’s face and kissed him. “Thank you.”

Liam gave him a small smile. “Call me when you can, let me know how he’s doing.”

Damien nodded and Liam took his leave as Damien stepped up beside Michael. The rain was still falling lightly, drops drifting down onto his partner’s short hair, his suit jacket. His normally bright hazel eyes now the same color of the gray sky. But with a hardness to them instead of softened by grief. Yes, Damien knew exactly where Michael’s thoughts lay.

He reached out and put a hand on the small of Michael’s back. “Let me take you home.”

But Michael shook his head, still looking down onto the damp earth that covered his wife’s casket.

“My place?”

Damien was thankful that Michael nodded at his second offer, glad that his partner didn’t want to be left alone right now. He slid his hand up Michael’s back to curl over his shoulder, turning him slowly away from Kerry’s final resting place and led him from the cemetery, side by side in silent support.

~*~*~*~*~*~

No words were said on the drive to Damien’s flat, Michael staring out the window, his mouth compressed into a tight line. When they arrived, Damien tossed off his suit jacket onto the couch and loosened his tie as he made his way straight for the kitchen. Michael followed him and Damien pressed a beer into his hand. Damien drank deeply but Michael simply looked down at the bottle.

Damien reached out and lay a hand on Michael’s arm. “Talk to me, Mike. Please,” he encouraged.

And unknowingly lit the fuse.

Damien felt Michael’s muscles tense under his palm an instant before his partner turned anguished eyes on him, the first true emotion he’d seen in their depths—guilt.

“_Talk?_” Michael spat, knocking Damien’s hand away. “Then how about _this_?” he ground out. “_It’s my fault!_”

Damien shook his head. “Mike, no—”

“_It’s my fault!_”

The anguished cry tore at Damien as Michael spun and hurled the beer bottle at the wall, watching as it exploded into a million glittering shards. Startled at Michael’s sudden violence, Damien took a stutter step back, his own bottle slipping from his fingers to smash onto the floor. Michael’s legs gave out then as he finally, finally broke down. Damien caught him before he could fall, holding his partner close as the floodgates opened and Michael let go of his grief, shaking against him, his tears hot against Damien’s neck, hands clutching at Damien’s back. Damien’s heart shattered like the bottle had, squeezing his eyes closed as his own hot tears leaked from the corners.

“I’ve got you,” Damien whispered.

Michael raised his head and Damien caught a flash of emotion deep within his eyes—of need, of want—a split second before Michael crushed his mouth to his. Their teeth clacked together, the kiss bruising, frantic and desperate as Damien lost all ability to think. He kissed Michael back just as fiercely, operating on pure desire he’d suppressed for too long, overriding everything that told him this was wrong.

Their mouths came together again and again as hands began tearing at clothing. They moved as one, still kissing, unbuttoning shirts and pants, bouncing off walls until they reached Damien’s bedroom. They parted then, only for a moment to shed themselves of their clothes, before tumbling naked down onto the bed, mouths fused together once again, Michael on top.

Damien couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, surrounded by Michael’s heat, as his partner rutted against him, his erection hot and hard already. Damien needed him inside. Now.

Michael pulled back, breathing harshly. “Damien…?”

Damien heard the desperate desire in his voice, in his question. All Damien could do was nod, everything spiraling out of control at a breakneck pace he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop.

He slapped his hand down on the bedside table and Michael tore open the drawer, snatching out the tube of lube. His movements were jerky, fumbling with the cap in his haste as he slicked himself. Damien’s heart slammed against his chest as he felt the blunt head of Michael’s cock at his entrance a moment later. Then he was arching his head back as Michael pushed inside. His entrance was rough, but fuck, Damien didn’t care. He gasped at the sudden burn, at Michael’s long, thick length filling him so completely, so quickly.

He held Michael’s gaze as they moved together, gutted by the emotion he saw in the depths of his hazel eyes, his head spinning with the intensity of it all. He wanted Michael deeper, closer, his body straining against his partner’s, the sound of flesh hitting flesh loud in the quiet, combined with their harsh, panting breaths.

Damien wrapped his legs around Michael’s waist, his arms around his back, fingers digging into his warm, bare skin as Michael snapped his hips, hanging onto this out of control runaway train until it flew off the tracks.

Which was all too soon, this explosive, first joining. Damien felt Michael’s cock swell inside him an instant before his partner stiffened above him. Michael gave a harsh, ragged cry as he came, filling Damien with his release in long pulses. The sight, sound and feel of Michael climaxing triggered Damien’s own tidal wave and he let himself be swept away, painting their bodies with long, white streaks.

They sealed their mouths together as they shook, until Michael collapsed down, both of them utterly spent. He slipped from Damien’s body and Damien instantly felt empty inside. He sensed the emotional and physical exhaustion radiating from Michael in waves as his partner settled beside him, burying his face in Damien’s neck, an arm across Damien’s chest, holding him close as he drifted off.

He wanted to wake Michael up. They needed to talk. They _had_ to talk. But Damien didn’t have the capacity to put two words together, still reeling from what had just occurred. His eyes slowly closed.

It would have to wait.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien wasn’t sure what woke him.

He slowly blinked open his eyes into the now semi-dark of the room. He must have slept for a few hours and now it was early evening. He felt Michael still lying against him, warm and solid. He blew out a long, slow breath, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was time to face the aftermath of what they’d done.

He shifted slightly, turning his head toward Michael, the movement waking his partner. Michael blinked open his eyes as well and Damien saw the apology written all over Michael’s face. Yeah, they needed to talk. Now.

But before either of them could say a word, a soft noise, the squeak of a floorboard, drew Damien’s attention and he turned his head the other way—to find Liam standing in the bedroom doorway.

Seeing him there, the enormity of what had happened, what he had _let_ happen, hit Damien with the force of a grenade and his chest constricted. The look on Liam’s face as he took in Damien and Michael, naked in each other’s arms, was one of utter resignation. It was the confirmation of all that he had suspected. He closed his eyes and turned away, but right before he did, Damien caught a flash of…something within their blue depths that he couldn’t identify.

He sat up abruptly, reaching out a hand. “Liam. Wait…”

But he was gone.

Damien turned to Michael. His partner looked stricken, guilty. It was hitting him hard now, too, what they had done. How wrong it had been. He slid from the bed, his movements hurried as he gathered up his clothes and jerked them on, not looking at Damien.

“I’m sorry,” Michael finally said, his voice high and tight as he moved toward the doorway.

Damien reached out again. “No, Mike, wait…”

But he was gone.

Damien sat still in the sudden, suffocating silence, trying to comprehend that he had just lost the two men who meant everything to him.


	7. Chapter 7

Damien tortured himself for the next twenty-four hours, heaping on the self-blame, which he so rightly deserved. Michael had been vulnerable and he should have stopped things before they went as far as they did. But he’d been weak, giving in to a fantasy. And now there was a hollow pit deep inside him the size of Liam and Michael.

He wasn’t used to this—caring about someone. Having someone care about him. There was a reason he was a “one fuck and done” guy. A woman’s face flashed in his head. He’d been manipulated and used for years. And he swore it would never happen again. He was better off alone.

Until Michael walked into his life. Until Liam walked into his life.

And he decided to take a chance. To open himself up again.

But now he’d fucked it up.

He pulled in a ragged breath. It might be over between all of them, but he couldn’t leave it like this. They both deserved an apology from him.

He picked up his phone.

~*~*~*~*~*~

An hour later Damien was sitting on his couch, looking down at the empty glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, waiting for a knock at the door. Somehow, he’d convinced both Liam and Michael to come to his flat tonight. Only they didn’t know that the other would be there, too. He hated lying to them, but he needed them both here at the same time.

The first knock finally came and Damien jerked his head up, standing at the same time. He made his way over to the door and opened it to find Liam on the other side. His normally open, friendly demeanor was gone, replaced by closed-off wariness.

“Come in,” Damien said, stepping aside.

Liam walked past him without a word and into the living room, coming to a stop next to the table and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Want something to drink?” Damien asked, trying to break the ice.

Liam shook his head. “No,” he answered sharply. “I want to know why I’m here.”

Damien’s stomach twisted at the hurt in Liam’s voice. He hated himself for what he’d done. How he’d betrayed Liam’s trust.

A second knock at the door saved Damien from answering. “Come in!” he called as Liam frowned at the perceived interruption.

Michael walked into the room and came to a sudden halt when he saw Liam there, surprise on his face. Liam’s eyes widened as well, an instant before he shook his head and tried to push past Damien. But this time Damien was able to snag Liam’s arm and stop him from leaving.

“Please,” Damien pleaded, looking between Liam and Michael. “Stay. Both of you. Hear me out.”

Liam and Michael locked gazes for a long moment before Michael nodded slowly, followed by Liam. Damien relaxed slightly and let go of Liam’s arm. But the atmosphere remained tense and uncomfortable. Damien opened his mouth to speak, and found that his well-rehearsed words were suddenly gone. He wanted them both here and now he didn’t know where to start.

“I’m sorry.”

Damien turned toward Liam in complete confusion. “_You’re_ sorry? Why?”

Liam glanced down at the floor then up, his gaze traveling back and forth to Damien and Michael.

“Neither of you were answering your phones,” Liam began. “I came over and knocked and no one answered, but Michael’s car was outside. I was worried, so I let myself in. I saw the broken glass on the floor and didn’t know what to think, so I went looking for you. I—”

“You have _nothing_ to apologize for, Liam,” Damien broke in.

Liam looked at Damien straight on. “And you don’t owe me an explanation, Damien. We never made each other any promises.”

“Stop. Both of you,” Michael interjected, his words rough. “This is all on me.” He turned to Liam. “I took advantage of Damien for my own selfish reasons. And I can’t begin to apologize.”

Damien’s brows drew together. “Mike?”

Michael ran a hand over his short hair and pulled in a breath. “You both know that things were falling apart with Kerry and I for a while. I still loved her, but not the way she loved me. Then the miscarriage happened and things just got worse.”

He paused, a small, longing smile at the corners of his mouth. “Then I watched you two. How happy you were.” He turned to Liam. “You’re good for him, Liam. He’s more centered than I’ve ever seen him.” His voice dropped. “And I got jealous and envious of what you had.”

Damien blinked at Michael’s candid words, exchanging a glance with Liam as his partner continued.

“A few weeks ago, when I was piss drunk at the pub and you brought me back here and I passed out on the couch? I woke up sometime later. It was dark and you’d both gone to bed. I got up use the bathroom and I heard you.” He swallowed. “I heard you making love.”

Michael’s face suddenly flushed and Damien heard the apology in his words. “The bedroom door was open just a crack and I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t stop myself from looking in. I watched you,” he said honestly.

Damien’s eyes widened with Michael’s admission. No wonder he’d been so uncomfortable the next morning, not meeting Damien’s eyes. It wasn’t because he was embarrassed he’d been drunk. He’d been embarrassed because he’d been watching them. And strangely, Damien wasn’t upset at Michael’s voyeurism. Before he could wonder why that was, Michael continued.

“I can’t explain how I felt, watching you, but the urge was so overpowering to walk in and join you both.” His hands clenched at his side. “I wanted it so badly,” he confessed in a rough whisper.

He turned to Damien. “I’ve always been attracted to you. From that first night in Kuala Lumpur.”

He turned to Liam. “And now you, too, Liam. I know you’ve caught me looking at you after our runs, in the shower on base.” He swallowed again and shook his head. “But you were both beyond my grasp. Until last night. Until I fell apart and you were there, Damien.”

Michael’s voice turned regretful, full of apology. “And I took advantage of you, wanting you so desperately. It was selfish and now I’ve destroyed everything and it’s tearing me apart, what I’ve done to you both.”

He turned again to Liam. “I am so sorry. Please don’t blame Damien. It will never happen again, I swear it. And I promise to keep my distance from both of you.”

It was a rare thing when Damien Scott was rendered speechless, but this instance certainly qualified. He struggled to form a reply to everything Michael had said. Had confessed. It was nearly too much to process and he didn’t even know where to begin. But apparently Liam did.

“What if you’re not the only one feeling that way?”

Both Damien and Michael’s heads swiveled in Liam’s direction, at his own sudden confession.

“I can’t deny I’m attracted to you, too, Michael.” Liam gave him a smile. “You haven’t noticed me looking at you in the shower, too? And getting to know you has only increased my attraction.”

Michael’s eyes widened as Liam looked at Damien. “It’s why I asked you if you were attracted to Michael. I’ve seen the bond that you two have. And it made me jealous.” He gave a little shrug. “I wanted to be part of that, too. I couldn’t believe that nothing had ever gone on between you. And even though you said it was because Michael was married and off-limits, I could see it in your eyes that you wanted him.”

His gaze now took in Michael again. “And then this morning, seeing you both in bed together…” Liam took a deep breath. “At first I was angry. But then it was like you, Michael. Suddenly I wanted to join you both. The feeling was so strong it scared me. I had to close my eyes and leave.”

Damien’s head was reeling, trying to comprehend what Liam and Michael were saying. What it sounded like they wanted. Michael looked just as off-kilter as Damien felt at Liam’s revelations. They all stood still, as if holding their breath, the air suddenly charged, and Damien felt as if they were standing on the precipice of something that could be a life-changing decision. If they were brave enough to take the leap. And looking at Michael and Liam, he knew he wanted it.

Wanted them both.

“Damien? What are you thinking?”

Michael’s quiet question broke the silence.

Damien swallowed and nodded. “I’m thinking this, the three of us, sounds…right. That we shouldn’t fight what we’re feeling. I want this. All of us. Together.” He paused. “If that’s what you both want as well.”

Liam and Michael locked eyes before turning their gazes to Damien. Damien saw the desire flash between them and it hit him low in his belly.

“Yeah,” Liam breathed as Michael nodded his agreement as well.

As one, Michael and Liam stepped closer and Damien reached for them both. He kissed Liam first, slow and deep, and then Michael. Their second kiss better than the first. Damien’s pulse was thrumming when they parted, uncharacteristically unsure of what to do next.

He licked his lips. “Now what?”

Michael gave him a sly grin, then winked at Liam. “I saw we approach this like we do any mission.” He slipped his hand up under Damien’s shirt. “_Detailed_ reconnaissance of the terrain…”

Liam chuckled and cupped Damien through his pants. “I agree with that assessment, Sergeant Stonebridge.”

Damien could barely breathe as both men began caressing him. “Copy that,” he managed.

They were in Damien’s bedroom a moment later, undressing one another slowly, hands skimming over warm, bare skin as it was revealed, layer by layer. Fine tremors of anticipation were running through Damien as they touched, his heart beating faster at the thought of what was to come. He drew Michael to him for a lingering kiss, then Liam. Then he watched as Michael and Liam turned to one another and Damien drew in a breath. He had been with both Liam and Michael, but this would be the first touch, the first kiss between them.

They took a long beat, eyes roaming up and down the other’s body, finally able to blatantly drink their fill of one another. Damien saw the desire spark in both their eyes as Liam took a step forward, closing the distance as Michael reached out slowly to cup Liam’s face, dipping his head down.

The kiss was tentative at first, their eyes sliding closed as they learned the feel of one another. Their arms encircled each other, holding one another close as the kiss deepened, parting their lips for deeper exploration. They both groaned softly and the sound reverberated through Damien, heat spreading through his body as he watched. They were beautiful together. And now he understood what both Michael and Liam had felt—intense arousal and an overwhelming desire to join them.

His cock throbbed as their kiss grew more intense, as their hands caressed each other’s naked skin. “Fuck _me_,” Damien breathed harshly.

Liam and Michael parted at his words, both their faces flushed. Michael turned to him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “If you insist,” he smirked as Liam chuckled.

Then Michael placed a hand on Damien’s chest and gently pushed him backwards onto the bed, following him down, with Liam close behind. Damien instantly felt like prime rib at an all-you-can-eat buffet as both Michael and Liam turned their attention to him, two pairs of hands and mouths exploring every inch of his body. He arched into their touch with a moan, the sensations nearly overwhelming as they kissed him and stroked his cock. Michael tugged on one of his nipples, sending a jolt through him, bringing him back to his senses.

“Wait, wait…” he panted, dropping his hands to the tops of both Liam and Michael’s heads.

They both did as he asked, looking at him curiously.

“What’s wrong?” Liam asked.

“Not a damn thing,” Damien grinned. “But before we go any further, since this is uncharted territory, maybe we should have some safe words. So if anyone’s uncomfortable with anything, anytime, we stop.”

Michael and Liam looked at one another and nodded.

“Mine will be…Detroit,” Damien said.

Michael smiled. “I’ll take London, then.”

“And Yorkshire for me,” Liam replied.

Then Michael looked suddenly uncomfortable. “I need to say something. Tell you both something.”

“What is it?” Liam asked, concerned.

Michael cleared his throat. “I’ve never…been on the receiving end,” he admitted.

Damien relaxed, running a hand over Michael’s short hair. “And you don’t ever have to be, if you don’t want.” He flicked a glance to Liam and back. “We’d never push you, you know that, right?”

Michael nodded. “Of course. I’m not saying I don’t ever want to,” he clarified. “I haven’t been with a man since before Kerry. And doing that… It never felt…right.” His expression softened. “But now…”

Damien felt warmth spread through him at Michael’s openness, his trust. He drew his partner closer. “This,” he said quietly. “This is right…” he promised, sealing it with a kiss. And when they moved apart, Liam promised the same to Michael, in the same way.

Michael looked calm, unburdened now as he settled back against Damien. A grin slid across his face and he cocked an eyebrow at Damien. “Wait, did you say uncharted territory? I’ve never known anyone more sexually open than you, mate. You’ve never been part of a threesome? Two women, a man and a woman?”

Damien shook his head. “You’re the first.”

Michael leaned in close, voice quiet. “And the last.”

Damien’s breath hitched at Michael’s heartfelt words and he pulled him in for a kiss first, and then Liam.

“Now where were we?” Liam winked as they eased apart. “Oh, that’s right. Here…”

Then Damien gasped as Liam wrapped his hand around his cock and started stroking again. Damien rolled to his side, reaching for Liam’s erection as Michael settled in behind Damien, spooning his body around his.

Damien and Liam kissed as they stroked one another, both groaning softly. Damien could feel Michael’s own erection, hot and hard, pressing against his ass as his partner kissed down his neck and across his shoulder, his hands wandering over Damien’s body.

Heat once again rushed through Damien and he lifted his top leg slightly, allowing Michael’s erection to slide deeper, telegraphing his need, his desire. He wanted Michael inside him again.

He felt Michael’s answering groan against his back and then his partner’s heat was gone for a brief moment and Damien knew he was retrieving the lube from the bedside table. He continued to kiss Liam, their mouths parting only to come back together again and again, their arousal growing by the minute. Liam’s thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves under the swollen head of Damien’s cock and it pulsed, releasing a stream of precome.

“Yeah…” Damien breathed, rubbing his palm over the top of Liam’s cock on his next upstroke and was rewarded with a gasp, his fingers wet with precome now, too.

“Feels good…” Liam whispered roughly.

He captured Damien’s mouth once again just as Michael’s slick finger rubbed against his entrance before pressing slowly inside. Damien groaned sharply into the kiss as Michael stretched him for a long moment, first with one finger, then two. When they found the hidden gland Damien jerked.

“Now, Mike,” he panted.

Then Michael’s fingers were gone, replaced with the blunt, swollen head of his cock. His entrance this time was slow, taking his time filling Damien with his long, thick length. Damien dropped his head back against Michael, eyes closing, mouth falling open as his body stretched around Michael’s cock.

“So tight, Damien…” Michael breathed gruffly into his ear. “Love it…”

Their first time had been frantic, but now Damien could really feel every inch of Michael inside him. And he wanted more. _Needed_ more. He pushed back with his hips, taking the last inch of Michael inside him.

“Oh _fuck_…Mike…” he pleaded.

“I’ve got you,” Michael answered softly, echoing Damien’s words from yesterday.

Then he was moving, withdrawing nearly all the way out of Damien’s body before pushing his cock back in again in one smooth, long stroke. Damien gave a soft cry and reached for Liam as Michael set up a slow, deep rhythm. Liam kissed him hard and fast, stroking his cock quickly before suddenly pulling back and rolling away. Before Damien could protest, Liam had turned his body around, his head now at Damien’s groin and vise versa. A split second later, Damien’s cock was surrounded by the slick warmth of Liam’s mouth. Michael’s movements rocked Damien’s body, pushing his cock in and out, sliding against Liam’s tongue and bumping the back of his throat as Liam took him deeper. Damien gasped at the sensation and reached for Liam’s straining erection, gladly taking him in his own mouth, bobbing his head, driving him toward release as he and Michael did the same to him.

Their bodies moved together, giving and taking until Damien was dizzy with arousal, surrounded by heat front and back, being fucked and sucked at the same time. His senses were on overload, his balls heavy and aching for release, his orgasm building inside him at a breakneck pace. He tried to hold off, wanting this first time to last, but the feel of Michael’s cock so deep inside him, and his own cock in Liam was just too much.

He surrendered with a harsh shout, Liam’s cock slipping from his mouth as he arched back against Michael, his orgasm racing through him, emptying himself in long pulses down Liam’s throat, contracting his internal muscles around Michael’s cock as he came.

Damien’s climax set off a chain reaction. First Liam, groaning sharply around Damien’s cock, swallowing greedily as his own cock jerked and pulsed, coating Damien’s chest with his release. Michael was just a moment behind, thrusting hard once, twice more before giving a shout of his own, gripping Damien’s hip as his cock throbbed and Damien was filled with slick, wet heat.

Damien shook with the intensity of it all, lightheaded, his heart pounding, reaching for both Michael and Liam. Michael curled his body around Damien’s, an arm tightly across his chest, still inside him as Liam turned to face Damien again, burying his face against his neck, Damien’s arm around his back.

They lay like that, tangled together, for long minutes until their breathing slowed and their bodies relaxed. It hit Damien then, surrounded so completely by Michael and Liam—the huge shift their lives had just taken. And he needed them to know what it meant to him. What he hoped it meant to them, too.

“I don’t want this to have been a one-time thing,” he said quietly. “Tell me that’s not what either of you wanted.”

Michael and Liam shifted then, so that Damien was lying on his back between them. Liam’s blue eyes were serious as he shook his head. “No,” he reassured Damien. “I didn’t do this just for a bit of fun.”

Michael lay a hand on Damien’s chest, his voice soft. “I want to make this work.” He looked to Liam. “The three of us.”

Damien released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, letting a smile break free as he reached out and drew Michael and Liam down to him, as they sealed their new-found commitment with long, lingering kisses.

They parted with contented sighs, once more tangling their limbs together as they settled and let their eyes close. Just before he let sleep pull him under, an errant thought flitted through Damien’s head and he chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Liam mumbled.

Damien grinned. “We’re gonna need a bigger bed.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien slowly let his eyes drift open the next morning to find Michael lying next to him, smiling softly.

“Morning, sunshine.”

Damien chuckled and stretched. “Hmm….”

As he reached for Michael to pull him closer, he realized he no longer felt Liam behind him, just as he heard the shower running in the bathroom. His lips met Michael’s in a warm kiss, his fingers skimming over Michael’s bare back. He had half expected to wake up this morning to discover last night had been a dream. But no, Michael in his arms was living proof it hadn’t been. But still…it was hard to comprehend this was really happening between the three of them. He knew it was going to take some getting used to, on all their parts, and he was sure there were going to be some missteps along the way, but Damien couldn’t be happier. A strange feeling for someone who was used to going it alone for so long.

Michael eased back from the kiss with a regretful sigh. “I have to go,” he murmured.

Damien frowned. “Now? Why?” he asked as Michael rolled from the bed and began dressing.

“I need to go home and shower, change into my uniform. I have a meeting in a few hours.”

Damien sat up, the sheet bunching around his waist. “Meeting? At the base?”

Michael zipped up his pants, stuffed his feet in his shoes and pulled on his shirt, then stopped to face Damien. “Yes. I wanted to tell you this yesterday—I’ve applied for reassignment to Twenty. Pending a mandatory psych eval this morning.”

Damien shouldn’t have been surprised at Michael’s announcement. And he was instantly conflicted. He wanted nothing more than Michael back by his side, but he knew the real reason his partner wanted back in and it wasn’t to be part of the unit again. He shook his head, choosing his words carefully. “Mike. It’s not a good idea. You’re not in the right mindset right now.” He reached out and curled his hand around Michael’s arm. “Give it some time,” he said gently.

But Michael shook him off, anger flashing in his eyes. “I won’t let Hanson get away with this. It’s _my fault_ that Kerry’s dead. You were right. I should have known Jake was unstable and it’s on me that I let it get as far as it did without cutting him loose. But because I didn’t I had to kill him and now Kerry’s dead because of my failure. She didn’t deserve that, Damien.”

Damien’s chest twisted at the pain and guilt in Michael’s voice, and he didn’t fault him for it. But still, he tried to reason with him. “I want the bastard dead, too, Mike. But asking to get back into Twenty for revenge?” Damien shook his head. “You’ll be putting the entire team at risk if that’s your entire focus and not on the mission at hand.” He paused, going for an emotional plea, hoping that would get through to Michael. “You want me to end up dead, too, because I thought you had my back?”

But all Damien’s words did was make Michael even angrier.

“I have to make this right!” Michael shouted.

Damien’s own anger rose to the surface. “You have no business being back with Twenty and you know it!”

Michael’s mouth twisted and he leaned in close. “Fuck you, Damien,” he growled. “Either help me or get the hell out of my way.”

And then he was gone, storming out of the flat, slamming the door behind him.

“Fuck!” Damien cursed as Liam appeared in the doorway, frowning.

“What was that?” he asked.

Damien blew out a breath. “Trouble.”


	8. Chapter 8

Liam’s brows drew together in concern as he walked back into the crib. Damien was exactly where he’d left him, sitting stock still at the briefing table, staring down at its surface, his expression troubled.

_“Scott. Stonebridge does come back, you’ll be in the field with him. It’s your call.”_

As soon as Damien explained why Michael had stormed out of the flat earlier this morning, Liam was as conflicted as Damien was. What he hadn’t expected was Dalton leaving the decision whether to accept Michael back into the section or not in Damien’s hands. And it was obvious Damien was having a difficult time with it. He didn’t envy him the choice he had to make.

He made his way over to the table and sat down across from Damien. “What are you thinking?”

Damien sighed and looked up. “What am I thinking? That Michael’s not stupid. He’s in there right now telling the shrink exactly what they want to hear, to get them to sign off. And not one word will be true.”

“Dalton’s left this with you. You can stop him from coming back or not. It’s your choice.”

Damien shook his head in frustration. “I don’t _have_ a fucking choice. You know we can’t leave him on his own with this. He’s going to go after Hanson no matter what. It’s better that we keep him with us, keep an eye on him so that he doesn’t do something stupid that ends up getting him killed.”

Liam’s mouth tightened. He knew Damien was right. Michael was a powder keg ready to blow. It was up to them to see that didn’t happen. “So what are you going to tell Dalton?”

Damien pushed his chair back and stood. “That Mike’s fit for duty.”

Liam looked at him steadily. “So you’re going to lie.”

Damien averted his gaze and walked away.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael moved about the house, making sure things were in order before shipping out tomorrow to Niger. He wasn’t used to having to do this, closing up a house. There had never been a need before. Kerry was always still there when he left…

He sighed and stood still, looking at the emptiness around him. There was no real life here. It was just a building. Not a home, like it was supposed to have been. When Michael decided to leave Section 20 and concentrate on being a husband, a father, they sold their row house in London and moved here, to the outskirts. To a home surrounded by trees and grass and nature. The perfect place to raise a family. Only there was no family now. Only ghosts of what could have been.

But maybe…maybe there could still be a family here. A different one. One with Damien and Liam. All of them here, under one roof.

The three of them. Michael was still wrapping his head around the events of last night, at the sudden left turn his life had taken. One that he could never have imagined, but that felt so right.

One that he may have already put in jeopardy, unfortunately, with what went on this morning.

Michael sat down heavily on the couch. Damien had been both right and wrong with his accusations. Michael did want back with Section 20 just to _be back_. Being out in the field again with Julia, rescuing Damien—it had set the familiar fire back in his blood. That was the life he was made for. Not sitting behind a desk or running recruits through an obstacle course. And now…there was nothing holding him back from returning to it. He had passed the psych eval, he had gotten the call from Dalton an hour ago, confirming his reinstatement.

But he couldn’t deny that Damien had hit a nerve bringing up Hanson. It was true, he wanted justice for Kerry. He wanted to make Hanson pay. He just didn’t trust the police to be able to do it for him. It was going to be up to Michael himself to bring Hanson in. And he couldn’t do it without Section 20’s resources.

Damien was wrong though, that he would ever jeopardize his life in his pursuit of Hanson. He would _always_ have Damien’s back. He just needed to convince him of it. The two of them, and Liam, needed to clear the air before they deployed tomorrow afternoon. Which is why he’d asked them both to come over tonight. He’d called Liam, figuring he’d be the more receptive of the two right now, and Liam promised he and Damien would come by. Michael looked at his watch. They should be here shortly.

He took a deep breath, once again taking in the emptiness around him, feeling as though he was standing between two lives—old and new. He needed to make things right with Damien and Liam. He needed them to help him make peace with the ghosts of his past and instead look forward to the future. With them by his side.

A knock at the door pulled Michael from his thoughts and he went to answer it. As expected, Liam and Damien were on the other side. Liam greeted him with a small smile as Michael gestured for them both to come in, Damien giving him a nod as he walked past him and into the house.

They gathered in the living room, standing in uncomfortable silence. Damien crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze flicking up to the cut and small butterfly bandages on Michael’s forehead. His mouth compressed and he looked at Michael pointedly but said nothing. Michael wondered what he was thinking, what conclusions he was drawing about the injury. Right now Michael had no wish to explain his anger had driven him to smash his head into a mirror. It certainly wouldn’t help his case right now.

Michael cleared his throat, looking between Liam and Damien. “I’m sure Dalton’s told you I’ve been cleared to return to Twenty,” he said, and he didn’t miss the quick sideways glance the two gave one another.

He turned to Damien. “I’m sorry for this morning, for losing my temper. I’m not going to deny there’s anger inside me but I’ve got a handle on it. My focus _will_ be on the mission.”

Damien cocked his head. “And Hanson?”

Michael pulled in a breath, his voice even. “I’ve got to trust that the police will find him. Either military or civilian.” He hated not being entirely truthful to Damien and Liam. But he meant what he said, that his focus would be on the mission. On keeping both Damien and Liam safe. But he was also not going to stop searching for Hanson himself if the opportunity presented itself. He owed it to Kerry.

He once again looked at both Liam and Damien. “I _miss_ being with the unit, the work that we do. A training instructor?” He shook his head. “That’s not me.” He spread his arms, palms up. “I just want to get back to being a soldier. I need you both, now more than ever. I swear I won’t let you down.”

He saw the chill in Damien’s demeanor thaw then, another look passing between he and Liam as he uncrossed his arms. “We’re going to hold you to that.”

Damien took a step forward and Michael’s entire body relaxed, melting into his embrace, his kiss and then Liam’s. He hadn’t destroyed everything.

The tension in the room released, Damien hooked his thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “I could do with some food.”

Michael suddenly realized he hadn’t eaten all day, too tense, too on edge and now he was starving. “Yeah, have at it, mate. Don’t know how much is in there, though.”

In the end it was a simple meal of spaghetti and homemade garlic bread and easy conversation around the table, with Liam glad the entire crib would be relocating this time, deploying to Niger, and that he would be joining the two of them in the field. A sense of melancholy washed over Michael as they talked. The last time he’d had a meal there it had been with Kerry. He absently turned his wedding ring slowly around his finger at the thought of her. He would always love her, always miss her and there was a hole inside of him where she used to be. But looking at the two men across from him, smiling at him, he felt them filling in that hole, little by little. Making him whole once more.

Their stomachs full of pasta and bread a short time later, Michael and Damien began the clean-up while Liam excused himself to use the bathroom upstairs. Michael filled the sink with soapy water as Damien brought him the dishes. But before he could start scrubbing the first plate, Damien moved behind him, pressing his body fully against him, his arms coming around to encircle his chest. Michael sighed and let his eyes drift closed, leaning back into Damien’s heat as his partner kissed softly down the side of his neck. Michael hummed in approval as Damien’s hands began to wander, one slipping up under his t-shirt and the other dropping lower to cup and caress him through his cargo pants. Michael pulled in a breath as heat began pooling in his groin and he turned in Damien’s arms, seeking out his partner’s mouth.

But Damien instead took a step back, his hands coming to rest on Michael’s hips. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first. If you’re okay doing…this…here.”

Michael was touched by Damien’s thoughtfulness. While he knew he could never bring Damien and Liam into what was his and Kerry’s bed, there was a spare room that could instead become the three of theirs.

Michael stepped closer. “I’m okay. I want this,” he reassured his partner. “Want you. Want Liam. Here in this house.”

He curled a hand around the back of Damien’s neck and drew him in, their mouths meeting and opening, kissing slowly.

“Getting started without me?”

Michael and Damien smiled into the kiss at Liam’s teasing, moving apart slightly.

“Just getting warmed up,” Damien smirked, reaching out a hand, bringing Liam closer.

The three embraced, trading kisses, hands wandering, heat growing between them until Michael pulled back, resting his forehead against both Damien and Liam’s. “Upstairs,” he breathed.

Another kiss and Michael led the way up to the second floor. He paused at the bathroom, pointing at the open doorway at the end of the hall. “Be right there.”

Liam and Damien walked past him and Michael quickly opened the medicine cabinet, retrieved the tube he was looking for and made his way down to the guest room. In keeping with the country theme of the house it was decorated in warm cream tones on the walls and dark exposed beams on the ceiling that matched the color of the floor. A dresser and mirror sat along the wall next to the doorway along with a comfortable wing-back chair. A large, wood four-poster bed was against the far wall, under one of the two windows, the forest green of the curtains matching the comforter on the bed, a trunk sitting at the foot with extra blankets lying on the lid.

Damien and Liam had turned on one of the small lights on the bedside table, casting the room in a soft glow, and were standing next to the trunk, kissing. Michael moved to join them, tossing the tube onto the bed. Liam and Damien moved apart, bringing Michael between them. Damien, in front, rucked up Michael’s t-shirt, pulling it up and off and dropping it to the floor. His own shirt, and Liam’s, joined the pile a moment later and Michael was surrounded by warm skin and hard muscle on both sides.

Liam and Damien focused all their attention on him, trading off long, deep kisses, tongues dancing together over and over. Damien’s hands ghosted over his chest, thumbs brushing against his nipples as Liam cupped his ass, his mouth hot and wet, trailing down the side of his neck and across his shoulders.

Michael shivered at the dual stimulation, pressing his body forward against Damien then back against Liam’s. He reached one hand in front of him, cupping Damien’s ass, his other reaching behind him to cup Liam’s, pulling them both harder against him, his pulse quickening. He rocked his hips, feeling Damien’s erection pressing against his own, Liam’s pushing against his ass. He groaned at the contact, echoed by both Damien and Liam.

Then hands were at his waistband, unbuttoning and unzipping his cargo pants, more hands pushing them down, freeing his cock. He wanted to reach for both Liam and Damien, to do the same, but they were already there, naked now, too. They pressed against him once more, front and back, and he gasped at the heat centered at their groins. They kissed him again, until he was breathing hard, longing for more.

Damien stepped back then, kicking free of his shoes, socks and pants, arousal in his blue eyes. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his feet on the top of the trunk, his legs spread wide, leaning back, his hands braced on the mattress, his cock jutting out in invitation.

Michael made a sound in the back of his throat, overwhelmed with the urge to taste Damien for the first time. He stepped free of the rest of his own clothes and kneeled on the top of the trunk, sensing Liam moving up and kneeling behind him. He bent forward at the waist, one forearm on the mattress, his thumb just brushing against Damien’s hip, while his other hand reached out to curl around his partner’s cock.

Damien moaned, his head falling back as Michael tightened his grip and stroked him firmly, Damien’s erection hot against his palm, steel wrapped in silk. The head was red and swollen and Michael could wait no longer for that taste. He dipped his head, opened his mouth and took Damien inside.

“Oh, _fuck_,” Damien ground out, dropping a hand to the top of Michael’s head.

Michael swirled his tongue over the crown, pressing into the slit, sucking, and was rewarded with a burst of precome. He groaned as Damien’s taste exploded across his tongue, sucking harder as he began bobbing his head.

Caught up in pleasuring his partner, Michael started slightly when he felt Liam curl his body over his from behind. Liam’s hands danced over his chest, up and down his sides as he kissed and licked over the broad expanse of his back. Michael hummed his approval at Liam’s exploration, the vibrations around his cock causing Damien to groan again.

Michael’s hand joined his mouth on Damien’s erection, stroking and sucking now, pulling more sounds out of his partner as his arousal grew, as he pushed Damien faster toward his release, wanting him to fall apart.

Michael’s own body was thrumming now as well under Liam’s deft touches and caresses, his cock hard and aching. He felt Liam’s mouth making its way, hot and wet, down his spine, his hands on Michael’s ass, kneading, just barely spreading him open. Then his mouth and his tongue were licking and nipping the firm mounds of Michael’s ass, questing closer to Michael’s entrance. A thrill ran through him at what Liam wanted, what he wanted too, for the first time.

“Michael…?”

Michael let Damien’s cock slip from his mouth, turning to look over his shoulder at Liam’s gruffly whispered question, asking for permission. Not pushing Michael for something he might not yet want.

But Michael did. He wanted it with Liam, with Damien. With the two men he trusted implicitly.

“Yes,” Michael panted, watching as heat flashed in Liam’s blue eyes.

And a moment later heat was rushing through Michael as Liam’s tongue swiped long and slow across the small, puckered muscle. Michael shuddered, crying out at the sensation.

“Yeah…” Damien breathed, eyes dark now, cupping the side of Michael’s face, rubbing his thumb across Michael’s cheekbone, his gaze drifting from Michael to watching Liam and back again.

Michael pushed into Damien’s touch, mouth falling open, eyes sliding partially closed as Liam pleasured him with his mouth. Jolts of arousal zinged through Michael as Liam spread him open further and Michael opened his legs wider, pushing his hips back in encouragement. Liam rewarded him a moment later, Michael nearly flying apart as his tongue breached him for the first time. Michael’s shout was ragged, eyes opening wide as his cock jerked, releasing a sharp burst of precome.

“Fuck, yeah, Mike…” Damien whispered hoarsely, running his hand through Michael’s short hair with one hand, stroking himself with his other, clearly getting off on watching Michael and Liam.

Michael could barely string two thoughts together now, breathing hard as the first stirrings of his orgasm began deep inside, but he knew he wanted to be the one to bring Damien to completion. He bent forward again, pushing Damien’s hand away, replacing it with his own hand and mouth as Liam continued to fuck him with his tongue, caught in a loop of unending sensation, both simultaneously giving and receiving like he had never experienced before.

Damien’s cock was leaking steadily now and Michael lapped up the sticky fluid as his partner’s hips shifted restlessly, Damien’s fingers flexing in Michael’s hair, rambling words falling from his lips.

“Oh, fuck…so close…make me come, Mike…oh, fuck…make me come…”

And Michael did, pushing his tongue against the bundle of nerves under the swollen head, sucking hard, stroking from root to tip. He felt Damien’s cock throb hard an instant before Damien shouted out his name, his release flooding down Michael’s throat. Michael drank greedily, swallowing down everything Damien had to give, his arousal at a fever pitch, his erection nearly painful now with the urge to come. Liam’s tongue felt incredible, but it wasn’t enough. He let Damien’s cock slip heavily from his mouth and looked over his shoulder again.

“More…” he ground out. “Liam…please…”

Liam’s gaze flicked up, locking with Michael’s as he slowly nodded and slipped a finger into his mouth, wetting it thoroughly. A moment later that same slick finger slipped inside Michael.

Michael felt a tremor run through him as the uncomfortable, unfamiliar pressure soon gave way to pleasure, his breath catching on a harsh groan as Liam’s finger slid deeper, his tongue having prepared the way.

“Yes…” he breathed, pushing his hips back then forward again, fucking himself on Liam’s finger. “Almost…almost…” he panted, rocking his hips, straining for completion, the head of his cock wet now with precome.

“God, yeah, Mike…” Damien encouraged him, hands stroking over Michael’s bare skin, drawing him up slightly as Damien bent forward.

“I’ve got you,” Liam whispered, moving in closer, reaching around Michael to stroke his cock.

Michael cried out at the touch. It was too much, too much…

“Let go, Mike, let go…”

And he did. His vision whited out as he came, Damien’s mouth capturing his shout of blessed release, Liam’s hand coated in it. He was still shaking as Liam shifted, pressing his body fully against his, burying his face into Michael’s shoulder, arms wrapping around his chest, pumping his hips, grinding his cock against Michael’s ass. Michael reached behind him to press Liam tighter to him just as Liam gave a cry of his own, his release splashing hotly onto Michael’s back a moment later.

Breathing hard, dizzy with the after effects of his climax, Michael was barely aware of Damien drawing both he and Liam up onto the bed with him, of the both of them cleaning him and holding him close as he settled. He traded lazy kisses back and forth with them, his body heavy and sated. He smiled contentedly as he reached up to run his fingers through Damien’s short hair, when a glint of metal in the lamplight caught his eye.

His wedding ring.

His throat closed up, his chest tightening with a sudden surge of emotion, Kerry’s face appearing before him. He froze for a heartbeat, staring at the ring, Damien and Liam going still beside him. With a heavy heart he slipped the ring from his finger, curling his hand around it. He squeezed his eyes shut as the emotion broke through and he let the silent tears fall.

But he wasn’t alone in his grief, drawing strength from the two men embracing him, comforting him. One chapter of his life had been forcibly ended, and he mourned it, but because of Damien and Liam he had a brighter future ahead of him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Damien woke. He was warm and comfortable, images from last night’s activities still drifting through his mind. He let a smile slide across his face as he opened his eyes. Liam and Michael were still deeply asleep next to him. He didn’t really want to move from their cocoon, but Michael hadn’t been kidding when he said his kitchen was nearly bare. And since they were deploying later this afternoon and would most likely be eating MREs for the next who knew how many days, he wanted a decent breakfast. A Full English. Michael’s favorite. Removing his wedding ring last night had taken a lot out of him emotionally and he deserved some comfort this morning.

So he slowly, carefully slipped from the bed, taking care not to wake Liam and Michael. He quietly gathered up his clothes and padded on bare feet from the room to get dressed in the bathroom. He’d borrow Liam’s car and hopefully he’d be back before either of them woke.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The sound of songbirds pulled Liam slowly from his restful sleep. He blinked open his eyes to the early morning sunlight and sighed contentedly. He was lying on his side up against Michael, his head against his shoulder. He took a minute to just soak in Michael’s warmth, at the same time realizing that Damien’s warmth was missing from the other side of him, and he guessed he was either in the bathroom or in the kitchen looking for coffee. Liam took the quiet moment to lay still, listening to Michael’s slow, even breathing as he slept, and thought about yesterday.

Last night had been a rollercoaster of emotion. He had hated the tense, uncomfortable undercurrent between the three of them when he and Damien had arrived. He hadn’t missed the cut and bandages on Michael’s forehead and agreed with Damien’s concern in the look they shared. And he knew Damien was second guessing his decision to let Michael back in the unit. But he heard the passion in Michael’s voice about why he wanted to return and he knew it was the truth. At least partially. He didn’t doubt Michael’s dedication to Section 20. But leaving Hanson to the proper authorities? He couldn’t imagine Michael letting it go that easily. No, he and Damien would need to keep a close eye on him. They couldn’t let him get lost in a quest for revenge and possibly lose his life in the process. Not when they’d all just found one another.

Not only found one another, but shared themselves completely, openly with one another. Like last night. He was still shaken by the freedom Michael had allowed him with his body. That he had allowed no one else. Liam would treasure the memories from that intimate experience for a long time to come.

But then the pendulum had swung once again in the opposite direction, from watching Michael shatter from pleasure only to watch him shatter from heartbreak in the next moment. Michael removing his wedding ring had nearly broken Liam, and Damien as well. How could they not share his pain? But they could also share their strength with him. They would get Michael through this. Together.

Fingers trailing over his arm drew Liam back to the present and he lifted his head, looking up and to his right to find Michael awake and gazing at him steadily.

“You looked miles away,” Michael said quietly. “What were you thinking about?”

Liam reached up and brushed his fingers over the cut on Michael’s head. “You.”

“I’m fine.”

The corners of Liam’s mouth drew down and Michael sighed. “I will be,” he amended.

“Whatever you need, Damien and I are here for you.”

Michael nodded slowly, brushing a thumb across Liam’s cheek. “I know. Thank you for last night. For…everything.”

Michael’s voice dropped on the last word and Liam saw a flush spread across his face. Liam felt the same heat spread through his body, remembering what Michael looked like, felt like underneath his fingers and tongue.

“I know you’d never done that before. Thank you for trusting me. Letting me be the first.”

Michael’s hand moved to Liam’s chest. “I’m glad it was with you. I’m glad it never felt right before last night,” he whispered. “I want more firsts with you and Damien.”

Then he dipped his head down and captured Liam’s lips with his own. Liam fell into the kiss eagerly, his body responding so easily to Michael’s touch, his taste. It hit him then as their mouths moved together, in the quiet of the room, that this was the first time he and Michael had been completely alone. And he would gladly take advantage of it. He and Michael had a lot to learn about one another and he wanted to get started.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien glanced over at the sack of groceries on the seat next to him as he drove back to the house, his thoughts turning to Michael.

As soon as he’d seen the cut on his partner’s head last night he immediately questioned his decision to let Michael back in Twenty. He didn’t know what had happened, but he knew it had to be self-inflicted in some way. And no doubt it had been done in anger, or in trying to control it, and his worry for Michael’s state of mind increased exponentially.

So he was glad they’d talked. He didn’t want this new relationship to derail before it ever had a chance to get started. He had heard the sincerity in his partner’s voice when he said he just wanted to be back with the unit, to do what he did best, and that his focus would be on the mission. But he also knew Michael well enough to know he was lying about leaving Hanson to the police. Because if it were reversed, Damien wouldn’t let it go, either. So it was a good thing Michael was getting out of London. All the way to fucking Niger. Not likely Michael would run into Hanson there. And maybe by the time they got back Hanson would be in custody. Deep down, though, Damien knew that was unlikely. Hanson was a soldier. He knew how to evade and disappear. And Damien hoped to hell he did. But he highly doubted it. Hanson wasn’t finished with Michael yet, he could feel it. The only thing he and Liam could do was watch Michael’s back. He wouldn’t let Michael lose himself in grief and guilt. Like he had done.

Damien forcibly stopped himself from raising up ghosts from his past as the house came into view, where the two men who symbolized his future were waiting for him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Liam and Michael let the kiss end long moments later, their breathing slightly elevated, and as if Michael was reading Liam’s mind he glanced at the empty spot in the bed. “Where do you suppose Damien’s gotten himself off to?”

He’d been gone too long to have been in the bathroom and Liam heard no noise from downstairs to suggest he was in the kitchen, so that left one possibility. “Outside smoking, most likely.” Liam made a face. “We really need to get him to quit.”

Michael’s eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Well maybe when he comes back and sees what he’s missing, it’ll break him of the habit.”

Liam quirked an eyebrow at him, running a hand down Michael’s side. “Oh? And what precisely will he be missing?”

Michael’s hazel eyes turned dark with desire, his voice dropping again. “This…”

And then Liam was caught in another kiss, deeper and more demanding than the first and he responded in kind, tangling his tongue with Michael’s with a low groan, reaching to pull him closer. Michael rolled then, pushing off the comforter to instead blanket Liam with his body, surrounding him with heat and soft, bare skin and hard muscle.

They rocked together slowly as they kissed, Liam lifting his hips as Michael pressed down with his, their erections growing, lengthening with the delicious friction until they were fully hard and breathing just the same. Michael pulled back from the kiss then, rising up slightly and Liam spread his legs, bending them at the knee, fitting Michael between them. Michael braced himself on one forearm and dipped his head again, now kissing down the column of Liam’s neck to the top of his shoulder as his hand drifted slowly down Liam’s side.

Liam sighed and closed his eyes, welcoming Michael’s exploration of his body, resting a hand lightly on the back of Michael’s head, his hips rolling once again, keeping up the friction on his cock, rubbing against Michael’s stomach.

Liam’s eyes fluttered back open a moment later, a shiver running through him when Michael’s questing fingers found one of his nipples. He pushed up into the touch and Michael raised his head as his thumb rubbed more firmly, teasing the small nub to pebble hardness. Liam sucked in a sharp breath at the stimulation of his sensitive nipple, the sensation shooting down to his cock.

“Yeah…?” Michael breathed.

Liam bit his lower lip and nodded, flexing his fingers in Michael’s short hair. Michael took the cue and lowered his head again, replacing his fingers with his mouth. Liam couldn’t help the groan that escaped as Michael laved his nipple repeatedly with his tongue and then sucked on the nub. And when Michael grazed his teeth over it, Liam arched up with a soft cry, his cock jerking as it released a stream of precome.

“Michael…” he gasped.

Michael sucked one last time then lifted his head, long enough to pin Liam with a gaze that promised more before dipping back down to continue mapping his body with his hands and mouth.

Liam shivered once more as Michael’s fingers trailed down his chest and ribcage, raising goose bumps in their wake, Michael lips kissing wetly over his skin behind them. Liam canted his hips up again, his cock bumping against Michael’s chin, begging for his hand, his mouth, to ease the ache growing inside him.

But Michael drew it out, first licking long stripes up the hard length of Liam’s erection from base to tip as he cupped Liam’s heavy balls, rolling them in their sac. Liam gasped at the teasing, his head pressing back into the pillow.

“Please…” he ground out, hands fisting into the sheets.

Michael finally took pity on him and twin moans filled the bedroom as Michael took Liam’s cock in his warm, wet mouth for the first time. Michael sucked hard on the swollen head, and Liam inhaled sharply as he felt himself release more clear, sticky fluid. Michael swallowed it down then opened his mouth wider, taking in nearly all of Liam’s length, until the head bumped against the back of his throat.

“Yes...” Liam hissed as Michael began bobbing his head, slow at first, then gradually faster.

Liam couldn’t help but look down and watch his cock being sucked, disappearing again and again into Michael’s mouth. The sight was erotic and his balls throbbed in their sac. He made a noise low in his throat, pushing away the urge to come down Michael’s throat. He wanted this to last much longer.

“Fuck _me_…”

Damien’s gruff voice startled Liam and Michael, both of them turning their heads to see him standing in the doorway. His blue eyes were wide and he was cupping himself through his pants, squeezing his cock.

Liam swallowed and reached out for him. “Damien…”

But Damien shook his head, his expression changing from one of surprise to arousal. “No…keep going,” he said hoarsely, moving into the room and walking over to the wingback chair, not taking his eyes off of them. He stripped off his shirt and sat down heavily, legs spread, his hand once again cupping his cock.

A flush of heat spread through Liam as he realized Damien wanted to watch he and Michael. And he realized he wanted him to. A quick look at Michael told him the same. They leaned in toward one another, meeting halfway for a long kiss, quickly falling back into what had been briefly interrupted. Liam groaned as Michael’s hand found his cock, stroking firmly, the thumb pressing just under the head. His cock pulsed, the tip wet again with precome. Liam bucked his hips, wanting more, but instead Michael moved back, his hand stilling.

“Like last night,” he said, voice low. “On your knees.”

Liam’s pulse quickened at Michael’s request, apparently wanting to return the favor. Liam nodded and they both shifted. Liam went to his knees, his hips canted downward slightly, hands holding onto the headboard as Michael picked up the tube that had found its way to the bedside table sometime last night. He swiftly slicked up his fingers and his cock and moved behind Liam. He draped his body over Liam’s as Liam had done to him, kissing his neck and shoulder as his hand trailed down his side, over the swell of his ass. Then his fingers were there, teasing at his entrance, rubbing for a moment before two pushed slowly inside.

Liam moaned, his head falling against Michael’s and he rocked back, trying to get the fingers deeper. Michael held still and let him, just as he had done, and let Liam fuck himself open on his fingers, continuing to kiss his neck and shoulder, a hand across his chest, holding him close. Back and forth he shifted his hips until he found the angle, Michael’s fingers pushing against the hidden gland. He jerked when he found it, gasping, his cock leaking steadily now.

“God _damn_…”

Liam turned his head at Damien’s rough curse, to find him still sitting in the chair, but now with his pants and briefs pushed down below his knees, his legs spread as wide as he could. One hand was on his fully erect cock, fisting it slowly, the tip shiny and wet, the other hand rolling and tugging on his heavy balls, his blue eyes gone dark.

Liam’s cock throbbed hard, beyond aroused at Damien watching him and it sent a thrill through him that Damien was just as turned on. A thrill that settled low in his belly, the first stirrings of his orgasm. He pushed back onto Michael’s fingers again, but it wasn’t enough.

He took his gaze from Damien and turned to Michael. “More…” he ground out. “Please…” his plea an echo of Michael’s from last night.

“Yes,” Michael answered, voice low and rough. He kissed Liam deeply as he removed his fingers and replaced them at his entrance with the swollen head of his slick cock.

An instant later Michael was pushing inside him slowly, steadily, and Liam cried out as Michael filled him, his body stretching around his thick length for the very first time. They held still for a long moment, Liam’s heart pounding, Michael’s arms around him, both of them breathing fast. Liam contracted his internal muscles around Michael’s rock hard erection, reveling in the feeling of fullness, pulling harsh groans from them both at the sensation.

“Need you,” Michael whispered against his ear as he shifted his hips backward.

Liam pulled in a sharp breath as Michael withdrew nearly all the way, until the head of his cock caught on the ridge of puckered muscle and he pushed smoothly all the way back in.

“_Michael_…” he gasped as he set up a long, deep, fast rhythm, thrusting in and out of Liam’s body, holding onto Liam’s hips.

“So good, so good…” Michael panted.

Liam gripped the headboard tighter as Michael pushed them both toward blessed release, turning to Damien. His blue eyes were blown wide, mouth open slightly, his gaze on Michael’s cock pushing in and out of Liam. It was then that Liam noticed that Damien was stroking his own cock at the same tempo, wanting to come when they did.

“Damien…” he breathed.

They locked gazes, heat flashing between them. Watching Damien get himself off watching Michael move deep inside him was heady, intoxicating, like nothing Liam had ever experienced before. So erotic that he was instantly there on the edge, his orgasm licking at the base of his spine.

Keeping eye contact with Damien, he pushed back hard onto Michael’s cock. “Almost…almost…” he ground out, repeating Michael’s words.

“I’ve got you…” Michael said, echoing Liam’s words this time, reaching down between Liam’s legs to take his cock in hand. “Let go…”

The simple touch was all it took. One firm stroke and Liam shattered. He shouted out, his cock pulsing over and over in Michael’s grasp as he came, coating the headboard with thick, white streams.

He was still coming when he felt Michael’s cock slip from his body, completing the circle from last night as he rutted against Liam’s ass, seeking his own completion. And he found it just as Damien did, their harsh cries mixing, Liam watching Damien as he came, cock jerking in his grasp as Michael’s jerked against his ass, hot fluid wetting his skin.

“Oh fuck…fuck…” Damien gritted out, dropping his head back against the chair, squeezing the last drops from his cock, panting harshly, looking dazed.

Liam and Michael collapsed back down onto the bed, limbs tangled together, shaking against each other, hearts pounding in tandem from their powerful climaxes.

It was long minutes later before everyone came back to their senses, utterly relaxed and sated, trading lazy grins.

“So,” Damien drawled with a smirk and a wink. “Who wants breakfast?”


	9. Chapter 9

Liam splashed handfuls of water on his face, rinsing off the soap, washing away the dirt and spatters of blood. He raised his head and stared at himself hard in the mirror.

He really needed to be careful of what he wished for.

All he’d wanted was to be out in the field with Michael and Damien, and his first mission here in Niger, West Africa had turned into a trial by fire. Literally. They’d nearly all been killed by the CIA airstrike bringing the building they were in down around them. As it was, Axmali _was_ dead, Othmani was in the wind with the nuclear triggers and Damien had been captured by unknown forces.

Liam was furious at Dalton’s orders for Michael to stand down and not try and rescue Damien. And if Michael hadn’t ripped into her first when they arrived back at the crib, he would have. Because Michael was right—what happened to no man left behind?

He turned to Michael, next to him in the makeshift locker room in the crib, both of them getting cleaned up and changed into fresh uniforms. “Where do you think he is?” he asked tightly.

Michael shook his head angrily, concern in his eyes.

“If Dalton says she knows who’s holding Damien he can’t be in that much danger,” Liam said, trying to convince Michael as much as himself.

Michael’s expression turned hard. “He’d better fucking not be.” He slammed his locker closed and turned to storm away, but Liam snagged his arm.

“We’ll get him back,” he said firmly, then grinned, trying to lighten the situation. “We always do.”

And it worked, Michael relaxing under his touch and giving him a small smile in return. He leaned in, stealing a quick kiss from Liam before walking out of the locker room.

Liam watched him go, praying he wasn’t going to be made a liar.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien pushed past Dalton as soon as they arrived back at the crib, having been “rescued” by her from the clutches of the CIA. He wanted to check in with Michael and Liam, but he couldn’t, not yet. Instead he headed straight for the locker room and the showers. He needed to get clean. In more ways than one.

He angrily stripped off his dirty clothes, throwing them to the floor, then stepped into the stall, slapping at the water controls. Jaw clenched, he smacked his palms against the wall, bracing himself, and hung his head, letting the water flow over him.

_“Run off to play soldier with the Brits, somehow redeem yourself?”_

Damien punched the wall and straightened up, grabbing for the soap, Christy Bryant’s words echoing in his head.

_“There are certain things you can’t leave behind, no matter how hard you try.”_

He scrubbed his body until his skin was red, trying to wash off the shame of being with Christy, being so fucking weak. Even after all these years she could still twist his mind. Like a drug addiction he couldn’t kick.

He leaned back up against the wall, closing his eyes, clenching his fists. What a fucking hypocrite he was—angry with Michael for cheating on Kerry and then he goes and does the same fucking thing, betraying Liam and Michael. He felt sick. Disgusted with himself.

He slapped at the water controls again, shutting off the flow and stepped out of the stall, snagging a towel and making his way over to his locker. He dried himself off briskly and had just pulled on a clean pair of briefs and uniform pants when Liam and Michael burst into the locker room. Their expressions were one of relief and concern, but Damien could barely look them in the eye.

Liam reached out to squeeze his arm. “Where were you?”

Damien took a breath. “With Christy Bryant.”

Liam and Michael exchanged surprised glances.

“Your CIA contact?” Michael asked.

Damien gave a short nod, pulling on a clean shirt. “The Agency’s here training Niger special forces. They’re the ones who grabbed me.”

Liam’s brow furrowed. “What did she want with you?”

_To fuck with my head_ Damien thought, but instead he shrugged. “Wanted to know why we were there. I didn’t tell her a damn thing. I did find out why they dropped a bomb on our heads, though.”

Michael nodded. “We found out about their plane being shot down, too.”

Damien shrugged again. “And that was basically it,” he lied, hating himself for it. “Then Dalton showed up.”

He may not be able to admit what he’d done, at least right now, but if and when the time came, he needed Liam and Michael to know it wasn’t just a random fuck. It wouldn’t excuse his betrayal, but maybe they could eventually forgive him.

“Listen,” he said. “I saw it in your faces when I mentioned Christy. And you’ve both asked me about her before. I know you want the whole story, but I can’t.” He paused, voice strained. “I just can’t. We’ve got history. And it isn’t good. Please…don’t ask me for more.”

Michael and Liam once again exchanged looks and then Michael stepped closer, curling a comforting hand around the back of Damien’s neck. “We’re all entitled to keeping our past our past,” he said quietly. “But know if you ever want to talk about it, we’re here.”

Damien swallowed down his shame. He didn’t deserve either of them. “I know,” he replied thickly, hoping that when the day came and he unburdened himself, he wouldn’t lose them both.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael would have to be blind not to notice the pointed sideways glances Damien was shooting his way as they packed their gear, preparing to be air dropped into the Tuareg camp. And he knew exactly why Damien was giving him those looks. Because even an idiot could have seen right through Julia’s excuse about the grenade. That she was covering for him. And Damien was no idiot.

One more glance and Michael snapped, turning on his partner. “Just say it, Scott.”

Damien set his canteen down on the table with a hard _thunk_ and turned narrowed eyes on Michael. “What really happened in that hotel room?”

Michael advanced on Damien, getting up in his face, unjustly taking out his failure on his partner. “I fucked up. Is that what you want to hear? I _fucked up_.”

Damien grabbed the strap of Michael’s tactical vest and shook him. “I’m worried about you, dammit! I want to know where your head is. I need to know where your focus is.”

Michael knocked his hand away. “It’s here. Now back off!”

But as he snatched up his gear and marched away, the lie rang hollow in his ears. Looking up Hanson on the computer earlier had reopened the wound again and compromised his mind-set. He needed to compartmentalize—Hanson and the mission. Or next time he might not get so lucky and instead get someone killed.

~*~*~*~*~*~

White hot anger surged through Michael. It was no longer Markunda’s man he was wrestling, fighting in the sand—it was Craig Hanson’s face he saw instead. Craig Hanson he wanted to kill with his bare hands. He was struggling, trying to draw breath, and Michael tightened his grip. Almost…almost…

And then there were other hands, Damien’s hands, pulling him up and off, dragging him away. Still caught in his fugue state, Michael tried to pull away, to get back to Hanson, but he couldn’t break Damien’s grip. His chest was heaving, pulse pounding, roaring in his ears, blood surging through his veins.

“—ael! Michael!”

A sharp shake and Damien’s commanding voice finally filtered through. He blinked, his partner coming into focus in front of him.

“It’s over, buddy. It’s over.”

Michael shook his head, trying to clear it of the fog. What had just happened?

Damien cupped both sides of Michael’s neck and rested their foreheads together. “Are you with me?” he asked quietly.

Michael swallowed hard against his dry throat, straightening up. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here,” he answered, his heartbeat beginning to slow.

They stood there for a moment, Damien’s eyes boring into his, full of worry, until he reached out and squeezed Michael’s arm. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He turned and led Michael over to the camp’s wash area, grabbing a towel and filling up a bucket with water. Suddenly drained, Michael let his partner wash the sweat and sand off his bare skin, the last ten minutes coming back to him with sudden clarity, shaken by what he’d nearly done to an innocent man.

Damien hung the damp towel over a line to dry, and Michael followed him to the sleeping area Markunda had given them on the edge of camp, which was an open-air tent with a roof but no sides, filled with boxes and bags of supplies, rugs, blankets and the biggest dog Michael had ever seen in his life, sprawled out asleep.

They worked together silently, surrounded by the quiet of the desert night and set up a spot for themselves with the rugs and blankets. Michael lay down and closed his eyes, hoping Damien would just let him sleep and let things be. He should have known better.

“What happened out there? In the ring? That was supposed to be just for fun.”

Michael opened his eyes, staring straight up. “All I could see was Hanson,” he admitted, fists clenching at his sides.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Damien nod. “Yeah, I figured as much. Mike—” he cut himself off with a sigh and his earlier words echoed in Michael’s head.

_“You’re only here because I vouched for you.”_

“You’re scaring me.”

Michael turned his head at Damien’s quiet words, swallowing hard again. “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Damien looked at him steadily. “It can’t.”

“I’ve got this,” Michael insisted. “You need to trust me.”

“That goes both ways, Mike,” Damien replied, reaching out his hand. “Talk to me. Let me in. Let me help.”

Michael’s throat closed up at Damien’s heartfelt request. “You can,” he whispered, moving into Damien’s embrace, uncaring they were out in the open, needing his partner’s strength and stability to re-center him.

He surged up against Damien, slanting his mouth across his, clutching at his back. But Damien put a hand on his shoulder, pushing back gently.

“Easy,” he breathed, slowing things down, rolling Michael under him.

Michael blew out a long breath, his body relaxing, taking Damien’s welcome weight, entwining his arms around his partner’s back. And as their mouths met again, soft and slow, Michael gave himself over to Damien completely, letting his mind go blessedly blank. There was only he and Damien, the desert, the stars, the night sky. No pain, no grief, no anger.

He let himself drift, soaking in Damien’s touch, his kiss, as his partner undressed them both, their clothes scattered across the sand. Then Damien’s heat was gone and Michael made a sound of protest low in his throat. He rolled to his side, reaching for him, then Damien was back with a tiny clink of a bottle and a blanket that glided down over them both.

Their bodies moved together as they kissed, hips rolling, heat pooling down low between them, Michael’s arousal growing, slowly building until he was hard and aching. He pressed up against Damien and his partner settled him again before easing back from the kiss, both of them breathing long and slow, eyes wide and dark. Michael reached up to cup the side of Damien’s face, his partner closing his eyes and leaning into the touch as his hand slid down between them, warm and slick with oil from the bottle.

Michael’s head tipped back, a groan escaping his lips as Damien took him in hand, took them both in hand, stroking their hard lengths long and firm, pressed tightly together. Michael’s hands glided up and down Damien’s broad back as their mouths met and parted again and again. Michael lost himself in Damien, in this perfect moment, so caught up in the sensations his partner was creating inside him, his climax took him by surprise. It rolled through him in one long wave, and he spilled over Damien’s hand with a low moan of completion, echoed by Damien a moment later, his release splashing onto Michael’s stomach.

Michael tugged Damien down against him, rolling them so that Michael’s head was in the crook of Damien’s neck and shoulder, his partner’s arms wrapped around him as they relaxed against one another. He knew they needed to clean themselves and dress before someone wandered upon them, but Michael’s limbs were heavy, his mind still quiet and he didn’t want to move from Damien’s warmth.

As if sensing his thoughts, Damien pulled him a fraction closer, his lips brushing against Michael’s short hair.

“It’s okay. We’re good,” Damien murmured in reassurance.

The double meaning in Damien’s words wasn’t lost on Michael as he closed his eyes, clinging to that thought as he let sleep claim him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael sat back down in the dirt at the base of the scraggly tree, the sun burning down on him. He wiped the sweat and dirt from his face onto the sleeve of his t-shirt and exhaled a long breath as he looked around him. The old man was sitting out in front of the bombed out shell of what used to be his home, the young veterinarian near him, waiting for some sort of transportation back home. And Damien was bidding Markunda goodbye. She was an amazing woman. Well-suited to leading her tribe. And insightful, too.

_“The one who killed your wife? He is dead? You will see it is done.”_

Yes. Yes, he would see it was done. By his own hands. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Damien called him out on his lie about leaving Hanson to the proper authorities. But his partner also understood. In a way that Michael didn’t quite comprehend as he replayed their conversation in his head.

_“That shit leads down a dark and slippery path, Mike. What’s at the end of it, it ain’t pretty. What we do, our jobs…you let that shit get personal, that’s when you lose yourself. Trust me, I did. If it weren’t for Twenty, you guys… All I’m saying is, don’t go getting lost on me, Mike.”_

That exchange, combined with what Damien had said in the locker room had questions swirling in his mind about his partner’s shadowy past with the CIA. One that still surprised him, having come out of left-field. It was one thing to have professional contacts in the intelligence community, which could have explained why Damien had Christy Bryant contacted to find them a safe house in Mogadishu. But now he was sure that Damien had actually been an operative, working alongside Christy. And it hadn’t ended well. He had heard the pain and regret in Damien’s voice. And the warning for Michael to not fall down the same rabbit hole.

He wanted to know more. What haunted Damien so? But Damien had asked he and Liam not to pry and he would respect his partner’s request. But he could also let him know that as much as Damien was there for him, he was also there for Damien. Neither of them were going to go getting lost. Not when they had each other.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien leaned back up against one of the few walls still standing of the old man’s home as Markunda walked off into the desert. He truly hoped he’d see her again one day. He’d never met a woman quite like her—strong, fearless, smart, a natural leader. And without her help, things would have quite differently, and not in he and Michael’s favor, of that he was positive.

_“Damien?”_

Liam’s voice over comms in his ear pulled Damien from his musings. “Bravo One, copy.”

_“It’s okay, it’s just you and me. I switched us to a separate channel.”_

“What’s up?” Damien asked, curious as to why Liam wanted to speak to him alone.

_“Nothing. I just…wanted to make sure you’re okay. That you’re both okay.”_

Damien smiled at his concern. “Yep, we’re both still in one piece.”

He heard Liam release a long breath. _“When we lost satellite coverage… It felt like forever until we heard your voices again.”_

“Aww, were you worried about me?” Damien teased.

Liam gave an exasperated laugh. _“Wanker.”_ Then he turned serious. _“And Michael?” _

Damien sobered as well, focusing his gaze on his partner, sitting once again at the base of the tree, staring out in front of him, seemingly lost in thought. “He admitted to me that he’s using Twenty’s resources to track down Hanson.”

Liam sighed. _“Well, that tracks with what I discovered. You know I’m keeping an eye on the police and military investigation. I received an alert that someone internally here in the crib was using one of the computers to research Hanson.”_ He paused. _“This isn’t good, Damien.”_

Damien’s jaw twitched. “It gets worse.”

_“What do you mean?”_

“When we were in the Taureg camp, Markunda picked Mike to wrestle one of her men. It was supposed to be just for fun. But Mike… I had to pull him off before he killed the guy.”

_“Shit,”_ Liam muttered. _“He’s spiraling out of control, Damien. I mean, what the bloody hell was he thinking, telling you to take the shot, knowing it would mean his own death?”_

“I don’t know,” Damien answered. “But I’m sure as hell going to find out.”

_“No. Wait until we’re all together,”_ Liam replied. _“This is a conversation for the three of us.”_

Damien nodded. “Copy that.”

_“I need to coordinate with the Algerians,” _Liam said._ “They’re about twenty-five minutes out for your exfil.”_

“See you soon,” Damien answered, then smirked. “Have a beer waiting for me, will you? It’s hotter than hell out here.”

Liam signed off mid-laugh and Damien grinned. But it slid from his face as he looked out over the desolate landscape all around him filled with dead bodies, remnants of the carnage they had wreaked on El Soldat’s men. He turned his focus once again on his partner. It could have easily been he or Michael lying out in the sand instead. How many times had they skirted death? When would their luck run out? He swallowed around the sudden tightening in his throat.

“Mike,” he called out, voice gruff.

Michael turned to him and Damien indicated with a tip of his head he wanted him to follow. Michael nodded and stood and Damien led them to the barn, miraculously still completely standing.

It was dim and marginally cooler inside, filled with the fragrant scent of the piles of hay. Damien turned to face Michael, noticing the tired lines around his eyes, his shoulders heavy with an invisible weight. Markuda’s words suddenly came back to him.

_“He is in pain.”_

Was that it? Was that why Michael had tried to sacrifice himself? Exhausted from carrying around the grief and guilt over Kerry’s death? Just wanting it all to end? The thought twisted Damien’s heart, his stomach. He felt Michael falling down that rabbit hole and was desperate to pull him back, to prove to him that his life was still worth living. That he had people by his side who would help him shoulder his burden. That he wasn’t alone.

He had been silent too long and Michael was looking at him with a mix of confusion and concern.

Michael’s brow furrowed. “Everything all right, mate?”

Damien cleared his throat. “Yeah, just…” He trailed off, stepping closer, reaching out to cup the back of Michael’s head and draw him in.

Their mouths met softly with a gentle, lingering pressure. Damien heard Michael’s quiet, but rough exhale, a puff of breath, the tension draining from his body. His arm wound around Damien’s back, pulling him as close as their bulky tactical vests would allow, opening his mouth under Damien’s.

Damien’s long, slow kiss was meant to leave no question in Michael’s mind how important he was to him, to tell him to keep fighting, to not give up, that he would always have his back. And when they eased apart long minutes later, he saw it in Michael’s keen eyes, that he knew exactly what Damien had been trying to convey.

“Thank you,” Michael murmured.

And Damien hoped that it was enough, that he’d gotten through to Michael. Because he knew the guilt and grief was still there. And until Hanson was gone, neither would those emotions. Only time would tell how this was all going to end.

But Damien knew it would be bloody.


	10. Chapter 10

Damien groaned as he stepped under the spray of the hot water, hearing an echo from Michael in the stall next to his, in the otherwise empty locker room. He scrubbed at his naked body, washing off the dirt, sweat and blood. Finally getting clean again felt just as good as the ice cold beer Liam had indeed had waiting for him on the briefing table in the crib, alongside a mug of tea for Michael.

He’d barely had a chance to make eye contact with Liam when he and Michael returned from Algeria, as he was at his computer station, working the keys rapidly, and Dalton ushered them both to the briefing table. In a matter of minutes Liam had identified Carl Matlock as the man who stole the triggers from them, along with their next target displayed on the screen in front of them—Conrad Knox.

Section 20 was off to South Africa early tomorrow afternoon. They all felt the clock ticking down, running out of time to stop a potential catastrophic event.

But that was tomorrow. Damien rinsed himself one last time then shut the water off, wrapping a towel around his waist. He glanced over at his partner. Tonight he and Liam needed to deal with their own ticking time bomb.

“Hey.”

Damien turned to find Liam standing in front of him, relief in his blue eyes. “Hey,” he grinned, as he heard Michael’s shower shut off as well.

“So you are in one piece,” Liam confirmed, looking him up and down before moving in close and drawing Damien in for a welcomed, lingering kiss.

He sensed his partner stepping up beside him and he and Liam parted, Liam turning his attention to Michael, giving him the once over as well.

“Both of you,” Liam nodded, and it was Michael’s turn to be welcomed back with Liam’s kiss and embrace.

When they eased apart Liam took a step back. “I’m off duty,” he said. “Finish getting cleaned up and I’ll meet you both upstairs.”

In the empty industrial building Section 20 had taken over, main operations was on the first floor in the vast, open space. The armory and locker room was here in the basement, and the men and women of the unit had taken over the top two floors that consisted of individual offices as their temporary barracks.

Liam gave Damien a pointed look and Damien mentally braced himself for the uncomfortable conversation to come. “Be there in a few,” he answered. Liam nodded in reply and left he and Michael alone in the locker room.

Michael ran a hand tiredly down his face as he reached for his clean clothes. “Damn, I’m knackered. All I want is my bedroll and at least five straight hours of sleep. And no gunfire,” he joked.

But Damien struggled to return the smile, knowing sleep was going to be a long time coming tonight.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ten minutes later Damien and Michael joined Liam in the large executive office they’d claimed as their room. The desk and filing cabinets had been moved out of the way to make space for their three bedrolls, spread out side by side on the floor. There was a window that took up most of the back wall, out which Damien could see the lights of the city against the night sky.

Liam was perched on a corner of the desk when they walked in, flipping through some book he’d found in the office, reading by the light of one of the electric lanterns he’d turned on. He closed the book and stood as Damien closed the door behind them. Michael gave Liam a weary smile as he headed for his bedroll but Liam stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“Michael. Can we talk for a minute?”

Michael turned back around to face Damien and Liam, his expression changing from one of exhaustion to wariness. “About?”

Liam glanced at Damien then back to Michael. “About why you told Damien to take the shot, knowing it would mean your death.” Liam took an unsteady breath. “Christ, Michael, it made me sick to hear you say that.”

Damien watched as Michael shook his head tersely, his expression now completely closed off. Liam had hit a nerve, no doubt about it.

“I told you I knew you wouldn’t do it!” Michael said to Damien, throwing his arms out to the side in exasperation.

Damien took a step forward. “Then why the fuck did you even say it?”

Michael tried to push past him, jaw set. “I’m done talking about this.”

But Damien slapped a hand against his partner’s chest. “The hell we are.”

Michael knocked his hand away. “Bugger off, Scott! Just let it go!”

Damien didn’t give an inch, still blocking Michael’s path. “Let what go, Michael?” he said quietly, trying to calm his partner down. “The fact that you’re in pain?”

Michael went utterly still. This time it was Damien that hit a nerve and his heart twisted with the knowledge. “Do you want to die?” he asked, voice rough. “Will that be your penance for Kerry? For Jake?”

Michael took a stutter step back, his throat working, eyes suddenly bright with moisture. “Yes!” he yelled, voice breaking. Then he shook his head. “No! I don’t know!”

Damien’s chest clenched at the raw anguish in Michael’s words. He closed the distance between them and pulled Michael to him as Liam joined the embrace, Michael dropping his head down onto their shoulders.

“Do you really think Kerry would want you to die a senseless death?” Liam whispered.

Michael was silent for a long moment before he raised his head, his voice hollow. “No. But she deserves justice. Hanson _needs_ to pay…”

“And he _will_,” Liam vowed.

“We’ll make damn sure of that,” Damien added. “_Together_.” He tipped his head, capturing Michael’s mouth first for a kiss that sealed the promise, followed by Liam.

Michael sighed, leaning into their embrace before straightening up and clearing his throat, moving back a step. He swiped a hand across his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I need to go get some air. Clear my head,” he said, exhaustion lacing his words.

Damien nodded as Michael stepped past him, heading toward the door, and made to follow him, but Liam stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“No,” Liam said quietly. “Let him go. We’ll be here for him when he comes back.”

Damien looped an arm around Liam’s waist as he watched Michael leave. “Yeah…we will be.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was close to two hours later when Michael made his way down off the roof and back to their room. His goal had been to clear his mind as he sat out under the stars, but in truth everything was still a jumbled mess, Liam’s question still ringing in his ears.

_“Why did you tell Damien to take the shot, knowing it would mean your death?”_

What _had_ he been thinking? Had he been thinking at all? He could just go with that—so caught up in the moment with a wanted terrorist right in front of him, with the power to take him out permanently. That was the easy way out. To then make light of it afterward.

_“That whole ‘shoot him anyways’ stunt? If I’d have taken that shot you’d be dead, buddy.”_

_“Yeah, well, I knew you wouldn’t take it.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yeah, really.”_

_“Bullshit.”_

Was it bullshit? Was Damien right?

_“You’re in pain.”_

_Had_ he been unconsciously hoping for a bullet to end it all right then and there? Disguising a suicide attempt as a noble “death in the line of duty”? Using it as a scapegoat to rid himself of the guilt and grief?

He needed to be honest with himself. In that split second moment in time, when he’d given Damien the signal… The answer was “yes”. It was a coward’s move and he hated himself for it. But he’d been given a second chance. And he wouldn’t waste it. He _would_ get justice for Kerry.

He pushed open the door to the office and stood for a moment, looking at the two men in front of him.

But not alone.

He had to stop thinking that he needed to do this by himself. That he had to keep everything he was feeling locked securely inside himself. Not when they wanted to help him shoulder the burden. Watching Liam and Damien sleeping, he was thankful he’d been given a second chance with them as well.

Michael closed the door softly behind him and stepped closer to them both. They were asleep on their sides, facing each other, but with an empty space between them. Waiting for Michael to fill it. Warmth spread through him at the gesture.

He extinguished the lantern they’d kept on for him and quietly undressed down to his boxer briefs, the same as Damien and Liam, then just as quietly lay down on his back between them. He wanted to reach out to them both, pull them close, to draw from their strength and their unwavering support to once again re-center himself. But instead he closed his eyes and lay still. It had been a long few days and he wouldn’t disturb their much-needed rest for his selfish desire.

But he should have known that they could sense what he needed without him saying a word. It was only a matter of moments before Damien’s arm reached out to drape across his waist, followed by Liam’s arm laying gently over his chest. Michael released a long, stuttering breath, opening his eyes as they both moved in close. Damien’s expression was soft with understanding as he leaned in for a kiss, Michael opening his mouth under his partner’s, their tongues doing a slow dance for a long minute before he eased back and Liam’s mouth took his place.

The two of them traded off kisses with him, their hands ghosting over his skin, igniting a slow burn inside him, his body craving more. Their attention was focused solely on him and he felt it in the touch of their fingers, the press of their bodies, as he had with Damien’s kiss in the barn—both of them reminding him that they needed him, that they were by his side, to not go this alone.

His chest tightened and he pushed up into their touch, their kiss, to let them know he understood. And then there was no more thinking as he let his mind go quiet and gave his body over to them.

As if Liam could sense the moment Michael let himself go, he kissed him once more then shifted, easing Michael’s briefs down and off. Damien took over the kiss as Michael heard Liam quietly rustling through his duffel bag. Then he was back, lifting Michael’s legs, bending them at the knee. Michael groaned softly, knowing what was to come as Liam spread his legs wide and settled himself between them.

Damien left Michael’s mouth to kiss across the broad expanse of his bare chest, one hand skimming up and down Michael’s side. Michael hummed in approval, cupping the back of Damien’s head lightly, then sucked in a quick breath as Liam’s hand cupped his heavy balls. Michael groaned as Liam rolled and tugged on his sac, as Damien found a nipple and laved his tongue across it, sucking on it, his cock lengthening and filling as they caressed him.

Damien grazed his teeth gently across Michael’s nipple, sending a jolt straight down to his cock before kissing his way back up Michael’s chest, over his collarbone, up the side of his neck, sending a shiver through Michael before finally claiming his mouth once again.

Liam curled his hand around Michael’s length, his cock surging into his touch, stroking him to full hardness as Damien varied his kisses—slow and deep, short and fast, again and again—until Michael was lightheaded with arousal and desire.

Damien’s blue eyes were wide and dark in the moonlight, catching Michael’s gaze, sending a rolling wave of heat through him as his partner sank down his body once more, going lower this time until his warm, wet mouth closed over the head of his cock. Michael moaned sharply, bucking his hips up, his cock slipping further into Damien’s mouth, seeking more. And Damien gave it to him, sucking on the swollen tip, bobbing his head, pulling a stream of precome from the slit. Michael barely had time to process the sensation when he felt Liam’s fingers, slick now, brush down past his balls to rub against his opening, asking permission. Which Michael gladly gave, pushing down with his hips, sucking in a quick breath as one of Liam’s fingers slid into him.

And at that moment he knew—he wanted Liam inside him. He wanted Damien inside him. With the other men he had been with so long ago, it had never felt right. As if his body had been telling him to wait for the right person. And now he had found that person. Both of them.

But he pushed down the desire. He had found the right men. But not the right time. Not here, on the dusty floor of an abandoned office, surrounded by others behind thin walls that could hear. No, he would wait until it was just the three of them, on a real bed, with privacy and all the time they wanted, when he could freely give himself to them both.

So instead he immersed himself in this moment, as Damien and Liam made his body sing, tremors racing under his skin, heat growing and pooling low in his belly. His breath came in shallow pants as Damien took his cock deeper down his throat, sucking and swallowing around his hard length, driving his arousal higher with each bob of his head. Then he was fisting his hands in his bedroll, his head tipping back as another of Liam’s fingers slipped in beside the first. He grunted as he was stretched further than he had ever been, but the burn quickly subsided, replaced by nothing but pure pleasure as the fingers found the hidden spot deep inside him. He bit his lip to keep from shouting out, unable to keep his hips still now, rocking up and down, caught in a loop of overwhelming sensation between Damien’s mouth and Liam’s fingers.

“That’s it…just like that…” Liam whispered, kissing down the inside of Michael’s thigh. “God, Michael…look at you…” he breathed.

Then his other hand once again cupped Michael’s balls, rolling and tugging, pulling a gasp from Michael as he felt them draw up, suddenly on the precipice of release.

“We’ve got you…let go…” Liam encouraged him.

And Michael did, throwing his head back with a harsh, choked off cry as he came, as sparks blossomed along his spine. He felt his internal muscles contract around Liam’s fingers as his cock pulsed in Damien’s mouth, pouring his release down his partner’s throat.

He sagged down into his bedroll as Damien and Liam quickly moved up on either side of him, holding him close between them as he shook. He squeezed his eyes closed, swallowing hard past the emotion tightening his throat. Damien was afraid Michael was going to get lost on his quest for vengeance. He made a promise to himself then and there that he would always find his way back.

To them.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien woke just before dawn to the quiet, steady breathing of Michael and Liam, still asleep beside him. Lying on his back, he watched the first rays of morning peek over the horizon and color the wall of the office in soft pinks and yellows. He ran a hand tiredly down his face, over his stubble. He’d slept fitfully after an unexpected conversation between he and Michael in the middle of the night. He’d gotten up to use the bathroom and when he returned to his bedroll he found his partner awake, his expression troubled.

_“Mike?” he whispered, trying not to wake Liam. “You okay?”_

_Michael remained silent for a long moment and Damien could tell there was an internal struggle happening. Just when he was sure that Michael was going to turn away and not open up to him, his partner swallowed hard._

_“You were right,” he admitted. “I wanted to die.”_

_Damien had suspected it all along, but to hear him say it? It was a punch to the gut._

_“Mike,” he breathed, leaning toward him, cupping the side of his partner’s face, resting their foreheads together for several heartbeats._

_Michael released a shaky breath when they eased apart, unable to meet Damien’s eyes. “It was a coward’s move. The easy way out.”_

_Anger flared through Damien. He squeezed Michael’s shoulder. “I don’t want to hear that shit,” he told him. “You are anything but a coward. You hear me? You’re wrestling demons that are trying to get the upper hand, that’s all. Making you doubt yourself. And I know you won’t let them.” He paused, cocking his head. “Besides,” he smirked, “When have you ever done anything the easy way?”_

_The attempt at humor worked and Michael huffed out a small laugh before turning serious again. “Thank you.”_

_“For what?”_

_“For you and Liam. For giving me a reason to live.” He kissed Damien then, long and slow before closing his eyes and settling down against his bedroll._

Michael fell back asleep a few minutes later but Damien tossed and turned, his partner’s confession weighing heavy on him. All Damien wanted was honesty from Michael, and he had given it, as hard as it had been. That was courage. It was Damien who was the coward. Asking for honesty from others when he himself was keeping a secret from the two men who meant the most to him. He was a hypocrite and he hated himself for it. But he owed them both the truth.

Even if it meant losing them.

~*~*~*~*~*~

An hour later, Damien moved about the room on auto-pilot, packing up his gear alongside Liam and Michael. There was a lead weight in his stomach that felt like a grenade about to explode. Section 20 would be redeploying to Cape Town in a matter of hours. He needed to do this now, while he had the opportunity, while the three of them were alone. Before he could talk himself out of it. Again.

He swallowed against a dry throat. “I need to tell you both something.”

The odd tone of his voice caught Michael and Liam’s attention immediately. They both turned from their gear, exchanging looks with each other.

Liam’s brow furrowed in concern. “What is it?”

He looked away from them both then back. “Something happened when the Niger Special Forces grabbed me up. When they took me to the CIA site.”

He paused and Michael took a step forward, concern on his features now, too. “Damien? What happened?”

Time to pull the pin on the grenade, the words sawdust in his mouth. “I had sex with Christy Bryant.”

Liam’s mouth opened in surprise, though Michael’s expression was carefully neutral as they exchanged glances again.

“It was over in a minute and I was disgusted with myself for letting it happen,” Damien continued, trying to explain. “I’m still disgusted with myself for betraying you both. But you deserved to know. It’s not right I ask for honesty and then don’t give it myself. I shouldn’t have kept it from you for this long.” He took a half-step toward them, hand extended. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve hurt you both.”

Liam shook his head. “But…why?”

Damien lowered his hand. “Because she still has control over me. We were involved for years. But our relationship, if you can even call it that, wasn’t healthy. It was sick…twisted. And it became like a drug addiction I couldn’t kick, the further I fell down the rabbit hole with her. Until I finally climbed out.” He blew out a breath. “But being around her again after all these years brought it all up again. She touched me…kissed me…and I couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. Even though I knew it wrong. So fucking wrong.”

He turned to Michael. “I’m the worst kind of hypocrite, Mike. Angry with you for being with Kate. For cheating on Kerry. And I turn around and do the same fucking thing to you.”

Michael shook his head, now with sympathy and understanding on his features. “Which is why I’m not judging you. We both had our reasons. Our weaknesses.” He paused. “This is what you were talking about in the old man’s home, weren’t you? The dark and slippery path. About losing yourself if you let it get personal.”

Damien’s jaw tightened. “Yeah.”

“I’m not the only one wrestling demons, am I?”

Damien shook his head. “No,” he replied hoarsely.

“And you’re not going to let them win, are you?”

Damien looked steadily at Michael. “Not if it means losing you.”

Michael closed the distance between them, drawing Damien against him. His forgiveness was in his kiss, and Damien clutched at his back in relief. But he couldn’t fully relax. Not yet.

“Liam? I know I don’t have any right to ask your forgiveness. This is twice now I’ve abused your trust in me. But I swear—“

“You didn’t do this because you’re unhappy in this relationship, right?” Liam asked.

“No! God, no!”

“That’s all I need to know,” Liam replied. “Like Michael said, it was your demons in control. Not you.”

Then Liam’s kiss was forgiveness as well, and Damien swore to himself from this day forward he would always be worthy of it.


	11. Chapter 11

_What a difference a few hours can make_ Liam thought as he sat at his computer in the crib, fingers flying over the keyboard. He was quickly learning that missions with Section 20 could go from being on track to off the rails in a matter of minutes.

Things had started off good enough that morning, if a bit off-kilter between himself, Michael and Damien. First there had been Damien’s confession that he’d had sex with Christy Bryant. Liam couldn’t deny he felt the same pang of hurt he’d felt when he discovered Damien and Michael in bed together. But he’d heard the pain, and shame, in Damien’s voice when he talked about Christy. And the hurt turned to compassion instead. The darkness in Damien’s secret past was palpable in his words and Liam’s heart ached for him.

Just as his heart ached for Michael. When they’d finished packing their gear, Damien had held him back for a minute as Michael left their room. He told Liam about Michael’s late-night admission, that he’d wanted to die. It tore at Liam that the thought had even crossed Michael’s mind. He and Damien would have to keep a closer eye than ever on him. They would see him through this to the end, no matter what, and see to it that he came out stronger on the other side.

With so much laid bare between them in a short span, they were uncharacteristically quiet around each other, lost in their own thoughts as they joined the rest of the unit and redeployed to South Africa.

The British military had conducted special operations in Cape Town several times in the past, and so had infrastructure already in place to accommodate the crib and personnel, unlike in Niger. There was a large warehouse for operations and barracks for the enlisted men and women. Dalton would be staying at the established safe house across town. And for Liam, Michael, Damien and Julia, there was a residential building with individual flats for their use.

The four of them chose their flats, then when Julia closed the door to hers, on the upper floor, Liam and Michael discretely moved their gear to the flat Damien had chosen on the ground floor. While Julia was aware of Liam and Damien’s relationship, they weren’t ready to announce their threesome quite yet.

The flat was spacious and modern, the décor in mostly white with an open kitchen/dining room/living room floor plan. Floor-to-ceiling windows ran along one wall, looking out into a small courtyard with green grass. The bedroom was large and Liam was looking forward to sleeping in the comfortable bed instead of on a dirty floor with a bedroll. The attached bathroom had double sinks, a glass-walled shower and a large Jacuzzi bath that looked like it could fit all three of them. Liam was hoping for a chance to find out.

But unfortunately that wasn’t the time. They were all due back at the crib ASAP. Dalton had previously briefed them on Peter Evans family having been abducted and his plane would be landing soon. Michael, Damien and Dalton needed to intercept him and get him to the safe house before Matlock could snatch him up.

Liam took a minute, though, stopping Damien and Michael before they walked out the door, wanting all of them to reconnect with each other. To dispel the lingering uneasiness around them.

“Listen,” he began, voice quiet. “A lot was said last night and this morning. A lot laid bare. And it’s taken an emotional toll on all of us. I feel this…distance between us.” He paused, concerned. “Are we okay?”

Michael and Damien exchanged a long glance, and Liam sensed their unspoken communication once again at work between them. They both nodded slowly and Liam felt the atmosphere in the room lighten as the elephant in the room was finally acknowledged.

Damien took a step closer, a small smile on his face, a hand on Liam’s hip. “Yeah, we’re good,” he replied, bending his head for a reassuring kiss that Liam returned.

Michael nodded. “Roger that,” he chimed in, first kissing Liam, then Damien.

Liam blew out a relieved breath as Damien moved to the door of the flat and opened it. He looked over his shoulder at the two of them. “Let’s do this.”

Liam nodded, following Damien and Michael out, feeling back on secure footing and ready to face whatever the rest of this mission had in store for them.

And that, as it turned out, was everything going to hell.

They split up not long after returning to the crib, he and Julia remaining to man the computers and provide ops support alongside Sinclair as Michael, Damien and Dalton headed to the airport.

It should have been an easy task, picking up Peter Evans. But since when did anything ever go easy for Section 20? So the easy task turned into a shootout both inside the airport and again on the highway. Liam forgot how to breathe for those ten minutes, until Michael and Damien’s voices came over comms to confirm they were all safe and the threat had been neutralized.

But there had clearly been more than one threat. Matlock didn’t want Evans dead. So who did? The task fell to Liam and Julia, both of them compiling information as fast as they could for briefings—first uncovering the fact that Evans didn’t even exist until twenty years ago and then on the murder of John Devers, who was clearly connected to Evans in someway and then discovering the explosive charge the motorcyclists had intended to use had all the markings of a Mossad hit.

Michael, Damien and Dalton were in and out of the crib as Liam and Julia worked, speaking with Evans at the safe house, then Damien and Michael tracking down Curtis Roe, trying to get information on where Evans family was being held.

All of that led to Liam currently researching one of the weapons that Damien had gotten off of one of Matlock’s men at the airport. Dalton wanted to know who was supplying Matlock and Liam was going to find out. He had noticed Michael and Damien return to the crib earlier. Michael disappeared, but he’d seen Damien out of the corner of his eye talking with Julia over at her station.

Caught up in his research he started when Damien suddenly appeared next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“We need to talk,” he said under his breath, his expression troubled.

He walked away, heading to a corner at the far end of the crib, Liam following behind in confusion and concern.

“Damien? What is it?” he asked when they finally came to a stop.

Damien’s jaw tightened. “Craig Hanson is here. In Cape Town.”

Liam’s eyes widened. “_What?_” he hissed in shock. “Are you sure?”

Damien nodded tersely. “Julia just told me. She was looking into local police reports since Devers’ murder and found out about a disturbance at a bar at the waterfront. She pulled up the CCTV footage and it caught the attacker. It’s definitely Hanson.”

“Bloody hell,” Liam cursed. “This is no coincidence. He has to be following Michael. Killing Kerry wasn’t enough. Now he wants Michael dead as well.”

“Julia and I think he’s trying to hook up with Matlock’s crew. I’m going to ask Curtis to find out.”

“Make sense,” Liam agreed. “Use their intel to get close to Michael.” He raked a hand through his short hair. “Does Michael know Hanson is here? Does Dalton?”

Damien shook his head. “Julia came to me with it first. We both agreed to not make this an issue until it becomes one.”

“Shit, Damien…Michael’s already standing on the ledge. We’re barely hanging onto him by a thread. If he finds out Hanson is here…it’ll push him over. There won’t be any stopping him.” Liam’s stomach twisted. “He’ll get himself killed trying to take Hanson down.”

Damien’s blue eyes were like ice, his voice just as hard. “We are _not_ going to lose him. You hear me?”

Liam squared his shoulders, holding Damien’s determined gaze. “Fucking copy that.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael ran through the streets of Cape Town with Peter Evans right behind him, clinging to a fistful of his shirt. He strove to control his breathing, his blood thrumming in his veins, adrenaline coursing through his body. His ears were still ringing from the flash-bang grenades the assailants had used on their attack at the safe house. Michael was still unsure of who they even were—Matlock’s men trying to snatch Evans or Mossad trying to kill Evans?

At the moment it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting Evans back to the crib and safety. A police patrol car suddenly appeared and Michael expertly guided Evans nonchalantly into a graveyard, pretending to have a conversation with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Michael tracked a car driving slowly past, immediately scanning it for a possible threat.

And forgot how to breathe.

There, in the driver’s seat, was Craig Hanson.

Shock surged through Michael as if he’d been struck by lightning. The world grayed out around him and everything dropped away—Evans, the mission, his duty. There was only Hanson, the man who had killed his wife. Whose murder he had just been reliving only hours earlier as he pounded the heavy bag. As if his mind had been preparing him for this moment.

His fury burned white-hot, consuming him, burning away Damien and Liam’s fear and concern for him as he abandoned Evans there in the graveyard, his boots pounding against the pavement as he chased after the car.

Hanson must have seen him in his rearview mirror because the car braked, then reversed and spun back toward him. Michael’s heart slammed against his chest as he came to a stop in the middle of the road, feet spread wide in a firing stance, laser-focused on the car as he drew his sidearm. As Hanson drew his.

Shots rang out, shattering the stillness of the afternoon. Michael’s finger squeezed the trigger in rapid succession, burning through one full clip, then another, screaming out his anger as the car drew ever nearer to him, as bullets screamed past him. Refusing to move until the last possible second, until Hanson tried to ram him with the car.

He dodged out of the way, running up onto the sidewalk as Hanson sideswiped a parked car, turning instantly to fire again as Hanson sped away. He ran forward, still firing, shattering the rear window of the car, watching as it turned right and disappeared from his view.

Only a moment later he heard the sound of a crash and his feet were moving again, slowing only when he came upon Hanson’s wrecked car. Jaw clenched, weapon up, he approached cautiously. Smoke poured from the interior, obscuring his view, unable to tell if Hanson was injured and still inside. Desperate to finally end this, he steadied himself then grasped the driver side door handle and pulled the door open…

…releasing the handle of the grenade Hanson had planted.

He frantically launched himself away from the car, cursing himself for his reckless stupidity, for falling so easily into Hanson’s trap. He managed half a dozen steps before the grenade exploded, taking the car with it. He felt the heatwave against his back before the concussion wave hit him, lifting him up off his feet and slamming him face-first down onto the pavement.

And then there was only darkness…

He couldn’t have been unconscious for more than a minute, groggily coming to, spitting up blood, his body aching from head to toe, head pounding. As woozy as he was, he was still able to instinctively react when he heard a vehicle approach, sweeping out his weapon toward the car, relaxing when he realized it wasn’t a threat. It was Dalton.

He groaned, lowering his sidearm, trying to lever himself to his knees as Dalton dropped down beside him. She was shouting at him, her words barely making it through the fog in his head.

“Evans, where is he? Is he safe?”

Reality suddenly flooded back in with the force of a freight train. What he’d done. Who he had abandoned.

Evans…Christ, he’d left him…

Faced with the repercussions of his actions, he swallowed down the shame of his dereliction of duty and disclosed only half of the truth. “There was an ambush.”

“Where’s Evans?” she demanded again and all he could do was look at her.

“Jesus,” she cursed. “Get in the car.”

Dalton hauled him to his feet and shoved him toward the car just as the local police roared up to the scene, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Michael staggered to the door, blinking as he realized Liam was also there, weapon out, covering them both. They barely had time for eye contact before Michael tumbled into the back seat. A moment later Dalton and Liam were in the front and the car was tearing off in the opposite direction of the police.

Still woozy, Michael closed his eyes, his head pounding. The taste of blood was still in his mouth and he felt more of it coating the right side of his face. His shirt over his upper right chest was also sticky and wet. He felt the deep abrasion there from where he had impacted the pavement, the muscle tender and sore.

His eyes jolted back open when the car came to a screeching halt several minutes later. He blinked again, looking out the window, realizing they were back at the crib. Dalton threw open the driver’s door and slammed it behind her as she stalked away, not giving him a second glance. He groaned as he reached for the door handle, only to have it open from the outside. Liam stood there looking at him with a mixture of concern and anger. He reached inside the car and grasped Michael’s left arm and helped him out.

“Christ, Michael,” Liam said with exasperation. “What the bloody hell happened?”

Unable to confess the truth, Michael could only shake his head and glance away. Only to look back at Liam an instant later.

“Damien. Is he here?”

It was Liam’s turn to shake his head, his mouth compressed. “His comms went dead not long after we lost contact with you. We haven’t heard from him since.”

Michael’s heart sank at the thought of Damien taking on both of the Mossad assassins alone. “Shit.”

“You know Damien, always beating the odds. He’ll be fine.”

Michael heard the forced optimism in Liam’s voice but he nodded anyway. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

Liam took his upper arm again and urged him forward. “Come on. Let’s get you patched up.”

He let Liam lead him further into the crib where Julia was waiting for him, medical kit already out. Dalton was nowhere in sight but she had obviously passed along the word that he was injured.

Julia’s expression was a mirror of Liam’s, both concerned and angry. “Here, sit down. Let me have a look at you.”

Michael did as he was told, his head now down to a dull throbbing, and let Julia help him take off his shirt, a painful process as his right arm and chest protested the movement. A few minutes later she had his face cleaned of the blood and small butterfly bandages applied to the biggest gash on the side of his face. She had just started cleaning the large abrasion on his chest and it was then that Damien suddenly appeared.

Michael exhaled in relief. “Are you okay, mate?” he asked, then realized that Damien’s clothes were damp. “What happened?”

But before Damien could answer Dalton stormed up to both of them and proceeded to give them a dressing-down that was completely deserved. Michael had fucked up and now Matlock had Evans. He should have been called out on it.

Dalton eventually wound down and walked off in one direction and with a short glance at Michael, Damien walked off in the other.

Michael made to follow him. “Damien, wait,” he called after his partner.

But Julia took hold of his arm. “No. Michael, sit down. You’re still bleeding.”

She was right, so he grudgingly sat back down and let her finish patching him up. Liam fetched him a clean shirt and helped him into it, trying not to wince as he raised his right arm. As soon as they were done he went in search of Damien, absently rubbing over the gauze Julia had taped over his abrasion as he walked, carefully rotating his shoulder at the same time. Dalton was right. As much as he hated to be out of the action, he needed to rest up for a day.

He finally found his partner in a dimly lit corner at the furthest edge of the crib, smoking. Michael took a beat before approaching. He had lied to Dalton but he couldn’t lie to Damien. Not when they’d promised each other honesty. He needed to confess what really happened. As hard as it would be.

“Hey,” he said quietly as he walked up beside Damien.

“Hey,” Damien replied, subdued, stubbing out his cigarette on the floor.

Michael drew in a long breath. “I fucked up.”

Damien’s brow furrowed. “How?”

“I saw Hanson,” Michael admitted. “I saw him and I just left Evans like he didn’t even exist. I just fucking left him there, mate.”

Guilt flashed across Damien’s features and it took Michael aback.

“About Hanson,” Damien said hesitantly. “I knew he was here.”

The floor dropped out from under Michael’s feet. “You _what_?”

“Richmond flagged him after some bar fight,” Damien said. “She gave me the heads up.”

Michael turned and stepped away from Damien, rubbing at his forehead, trying to process what his partner was saying, his anger growing. He turned again and stalked back, jaw clenched, and got up into Damien’s space. “When were you fucking going to tell me this, huh?”

Damien glanced away, then back. “Don’t know. I didn’t know how you’d react.”

“Yeah, well if I’d have known beforehand I’d have handled it better, Scott,” Michael accused him.

Now anger flashed across Damien’s face. “What, were you going to take out Matlock and his entire crew?” he shot back. “That’s you handling it?”

Michael stepped even closer, eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck are you to tell me what I can and can’t know, huh?”

“So what happens when we go kicking down doors and you see him?”

Michael took a beat and stepped back, forcing himself to calm down. “I’m fine. The mission, it always comes first. Hanson, he’s just a bonus, yeah?” He locked gazes with Damien, voice pitched low. “You’ve _got_ to trust me.”

Damien held his gaze but remained silent, but the uncertainty Michael saw in the depths of his blue eyes was all the answer Michael needed.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Liam watched uneasily from his station as Damien and Michael reappeared from wherever they’d gone off to. He could easily tell from their closed-off expressions that their conversation hadn’t gone all that well. Not that he’d expected it would. It was obvious that Michael was hiding something about what really went down earlier. How he’d really lost Evans. Liam wondered if Damien had been able to get to the bottom of it or if Michael had shut him out. He wanted to speak to both of them, but Dalton had him and Julia on research duty again, this time compiling data on the Conrad Knox Foundation and Knox himself. Dalton had pulled Michael temporarily from field duty and instead assigned him to get close to Ava Knox at a fundraiser tomorrow. So he needed to go in prepared.

And for the next half hour both Michael and Damien read the files and watched the videos Liam and Julia had pulled, until Dalton came over and told them both to go home and get some rest. Liam watched as Damien took her up on her suggestion, pushing back his chair and standing up. He heard him ask Michael if he wanted to go get a beer, but Michael declined and Liam frowned. Damien passed by Liam on his way out, asking with a tip of head if Liam was going to join him, but Liam shook his head no. He and Julia weren’t quite finished yet looking into how the guns were transported to the destruction facility. Damien nodded and Liam noticed the tired lines around his eyes before Damien turned and left the crib. Liam frowned again. Unfortunately, with the way things seemed to stand between Damien and Michael right now it would probably be a sleepless night.

But where did _he_ stand with Michael? Only one way to find out.

He finished up his end of the research and said goodnight to Julia then made his way over to where Michael was sitting, still flipping through pages and watching videos.

“Michael. Are you ready to head back to the flat?”

Michael set down the file folder he was holding and pinned Liam with a hard stare. “Did you know?” he asked, voice low.

The question required no explanation. It was obvious that Hanson had come up in Damien and Michael’s private conversation and Damien admitted that he knew Hanson was in Cape Town. But left out Liam’s complicitness in the lie. He appreciated Damien’s attempt to spare him Michael’s anger, but the three of them didn’t need more lies coming between them.

Liam nodded. “I did.”

Michael huffed out a harsh breath and shook his head tersely, his mouth compressing into a tight line.

“Michael, we—” Liam began, trying to offer up an explanation, but Michael’s eyes hardened and he turned abruptly away from Liam, picking up the file folder, putting an end to the conversation.

Liam sighed heavily as he reluctantly walked away, an ache in his chest, wondering how he and Damien were going to repair the damage they’d caused in trying to protect Michael from himself.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The mood in the flat was somber an hour later as evening fell on Cape Town, painting the interior in growing shadows. Liam sat in one of them, in a chair in the corner of the living room, lost in thought. Damien stood across from him in the open doorway to the courtyard, leaning against the jamb, smoking, watching the growing darkness outside. Lost in his own head as well.

They had talked at length when Liam arrived back at the flat. While Liam wasn’t surprised that Damien had indeed told Michael about their knowledge of Hanson’s arrival in Cape Town, he was floored to find out that Michael had actually seen Hanson and that’s how Evans had ended up being captured by Matlock and his crew. Because Michael had abandoned him.

Liam blew out a long breath and tipped his head back against the chair. He felt as if a chasm was opening in between the three of them, fueled by lies. There was no right and wrong here. They were all wrong. He and Damien should have warned Michael. And Michael should not have allowed his emotions to compromise his duty. It seemed as if every time they took one step forward together they then took two steps back. Would they ever find stable footing?

The sound of the front door opening was loud in the quiet and Liam turned his head, noticing that Damien didn’t react, still standing with his back to the room. Michael walked in and Liam sensed a shift in the atmosphere as tension filled the air. Liam was wondering who was going to make the first move of the three of them, what he would even say if it was him, but Michael took the decision away from him. He began walking across the living room toward Damien and he must not have seen Liam sitting in the shadows for he didn’t even spare him a glance.

He came to a stop next to Damien and only then did Damien move, turning toward him. The silence was heavy between them and Liam kept still, not wanting to interrupt. He watched as Michael slowly reached out a hand, as if expecting Damien to pull away. But he didn’t and Michael curled his hand gently around the back of Damien’s neck. He stepped closer until their foreheads touched. Liam heard them both breathe out at the same time.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

And as their lips met the tension in the room dissipated, evaporating into the night sky. Liam watched as Michael and Damien moved into each other’s embrace, arms winding around one another, holding tight, the kiss deepening. Liam’s body relaxed at the sign of forgiveness, his heart now lighter, but he made no move to join them. This was their moment, their time to reconnect, and he would not intrude. But he also made no move to leave, afraid to draw attention and break their connection. That’s what he told himself, at least. And that was partially the truth. The whole truth was…they were beautiful together. Just like he thought that first morning he caught them in bed. And this time he wanted to watch.

His body was already responding, a slow warmth spreading through him as Damien and Michael continued to kiss, their hands now roaming over broad backs and down over the curve of an ass. Then those hands began to slowly tug clothing off, scattering shirts and pants across the floor until Michael and Damien were naked before him. His cock took notice, giving a throb and beginning to fill. He helped it along, massaging it through the fabric of his cargo pants as he continued to watch, still hidden in the shadows.

Damien turned Michael, his back now up against the sliding glass door and Liam pulled in a breath as Damien then dropped to his knees. Michael groaned, eyes closing and head tipping back against the door as Damien took him into his mouth. Liam’s cock pulsed against his palm and he swallowed down his own groan. With Damien’s back to him and Michael’s eyes closed, Liam took the opportunity to quietly open his pants and push them and his briefs down past his knees, freeing his cock. He sighed as he took himself in hand, nearly fully hard now. He stroked himself long and slow as Damien sucked Michael off, his arousal building with sense memory of Damien’s mouth on his own cock, how amazing it felt.

“Damien…more…”

Michael’s low moan went straight to Liam’s cock and he spread his legs wider as Michael did the same. He watched as Michael opened his eyes and looked down, his hands coming to rest on either side of Damien’s bobbing head. Then Michael’s hips started shifting with short thrusts and Damien went still. Damien’s deep groan carried through the room and reverberated through Liam as Michael began fucking Damien’s mouth. One of Damien’s hands slid down from Michael’s hip to between his own legs, stroking himself now with quick flicks of his wrist.

Liam’s cock pulsed again at the erotic sight, the tip now wet with sticky fluid, his hand moving faster, squeezing himself just a little harder as he watched the two of them. He could already feel his orgasm building low in his belly and his free hand drifted to his balls, lying full and heavy in their sac. He rolled and tugged, his arousal keeping pace with Michael and Damien, wanting to come when they did.

But then Michael suddenly made a choked-off noise and moved Damien back, his cock slipping from his mouth. Damien’s sound of protest was cut off as Michael hauled him to his feet, his movements jerky, and sealed his mouth to Damien’s for a fast, rough kiss. Then Michael moved Damien back again, turning him around and stepping them both toward the couch, facing Liam.

His breath caught at their expressions—eyes wide and blown out, faces flushed with arousal, both of them on the edge. And Liam was right there with them.

Damien went down onto the couch, positioning himself slightly sideways with both hands and one knee on the cushions, his other foot on the floor, his upper body angled downward, his ass high—waiting for Michael to fill it. Liam’s cock throbbed hard against his palm, leaking again as he stroked, his breath quickening, trying to keep quiet and unnoticed.

As Damien presented himself, Michael dug through Damien’s discarded jeans, searching for and finding his wallet. He quickly rifled through the contents, pulling out a packet of lube they all knew Damien kept there and then tossed the wallet to the floor. Michael tore open the packet and coated his cock as he stepped up behind Damien, who looked over his shoulder.

“Mike…” he pleaded hoarsely. “Please…”

And then they both cried out as Michael filled him in one long, steady thrust. Liam bit his lip to keep from shouting out himself. He could practically feel Michael’s cock filling him as well, so hot and hard and thick, moving deep inside him.

He matched his strokes to Michael’s thrusts, his pulse thrumming, rushing toward completion, captivated by the intimate scene playing out before him, his arousal nearly stealing his breath away.

Damien and Michael moved together, thrusting forward and pushing back, miles of bare, soft skin and hard muscle glowing in the moonlight, sounds of desire falling from their lips and mingling in the near darkness. Liam was at his breaking point, his cock so hard it ached for release but desperate to fall over the edge with them both.

“Now…oh, fuck…now,” Damien ground out. “Gonna come…”

“Right there, I’m right there…” Michael panted, looking up from where he’d been watching his cock sliding in and out of Damien…to lock eyes with Liam. “Let go…”

Liam gasped as Damien, too, looked up and directly at him, a split second before he came with a harsh shout, Michael following his partner over the edge…pulling Liam along with them.

His hidden presence no longer hidden, Liam cried out as his climax raced through him, arching his back as his cock pulsed in his grip, coating his hand and stomach with thick, white stripes of his release.

Tremors raced through him until he was spent, sagging back against the chair, drained from the intense experience. Michael and Damien were still looking at him, both breathing hard in the aftermath of their own release. Michael’s expression was soft and he reached out a hand to Liam. Swallowing hard, Liam stepped out of his pants and made his way across the room to he and Damien.

Mirroring Michael’s action from earlier, Liam touched their foreheads together and breathed his own apology.

“I’m sorry.”

Michael’s kiss was as gentle as the words he whispered against Liam’s lips. “I’m sorry.”

They eased back with soft matching smiles that said all was forgiven as Damien dropped a kiss on Liam’s bare hip. Liam looked down at him, still smiling, noticing the fine sheet of sweat on both his body and Michael’s and the state of his own skin.

He held up his sticky hand and chuckled, glancing between Damien and Michael. “I think it’s about time we try out that tub, eh?”

His answer was a matching pair of relaxed laughs that echoed brightly in the moonlight.


	12. Chapter 12

Damien paced the jail cell like a caged tiger, his thoughts a riot of anger. How many more ways could this mission go sideways? Caught up in their own sting. Un-_fucking_-believable.

The noise around him was nearly deafening, the cells full of Knox’s men rounded up by the police at the docks, caught red-handed stealing guns meant to be destroyed. Also caught in the net—Damien, Liam and Julia. No matter their protests that they had been the ones to call the police in the first place, they’d been hauled off with everyone else. Being the only American and Brit, he and Liam were in a cell by themselves and since Julia was the only woman caught up in the raid, she was alone in a cell two down from where Damien was currently locked up. All three of them yelling for a phone to get Dalton on the line to clear this mess up. All three of them being completely ignored by the guards.

But who _wasn’t _in a cell? Matlock’s sniper. And Craig Hanson.

Anger burned through Damien all over again. He’d had that asshole in his sights. Literally. And he slipped away.

“Fuck!” Damien whirled, his hand curling into a fist and smashing into the wall.

“Oi! Damien!” Liam crossed the cell in two strides and grabbed hold of Damien’s arm before he could take his frustration out on the wall again.

Damien shook him off. “I had him!” he shouted. “I fucking had him! I had the power to end it all for Mike and I fucking blew it!”

Liam shook his head. “It’s not your fault Hanson got away.”

Damien grit his teeth. “The hell it’s not.”

“If it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine!” Liam shouted back.

Damien blinked. “Yours?”

Liam’s hands curled into fists at his side, frustration in his blue eyes. “If I hadn’t left my position and stayed on the top of the hill I’d have seen Hanson escaping. I could have stopped him.” He blew out a harsh breath. “But you and Julia were outnumbered so I ran down…” He shook his head sharply, berating himself.

“Hey, we _did_ need the backup. You did _nothing_ wrong,” Damien reassured him.

Liam locked eyes with him. “And neither did you. That entire situation got beyond our control.”

Damien knew Liam was right. But it did little to erase the sting of his failure. “Still…” Damien said, his voice hollow. “How am I going to look Mike in the eyes and tell him that Hanson fucking smiled at me…and then walked away?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was another two hours before Dalton could get Damien, Liam and Julia released then an hour debrief back at the crib before they were all able to return to their flats. Dusk had already fallen, and Damien and Liam bid Julia goodnight before heading inside themselves.

They caught Michael mid-pace in the middle of the living room, running a hand over his short hair. His suit coat had been tossed on the back of the chair but he was still wearing the dress shirt and slacks he’d had on that afternoon for the Knox Foundation fundraiser. His head turned quickly toward the door and his shoulders relaxed as soon as he saw them.

“Christ!” he exhaled, stepping toward them. “What the bloody hell happened?”

Damien exchanged a glance with Liam that didn’t go unnoticed by Michael.

“What?” Michael repeated, his brows drawing together.

“Things didn’t exactly go to plan,” Liam began.

“Yeah, I take it since both of you and Julia were arrested,” Michael replied. “What went wrong?”

“They were tipped off, that’s what,” Damien spoke up. “Matlock’s sniper was there. She got a call and they all started packing up before the local cops arrived.”

“We tried to stall them and things just went sideways from there,” Liam sighed. “The locals couldn’t tell us from Knox’s crew and rounded us all up.”

Michael shook his head. “Shit.”

Damien pulled in a breath and took a step toward Michael. No more lies. No more hiding things from one another. “Mike…Matlock’s sniper wasn’t the only one that was there. Hanson was, too. And he got away.”

Michael went absolutely still, eyes locked with Damien’s. “What?” he breathed.

Damien’s jaw clenched. “I had him, Mike. I fucking had him there right in front of me. I was one second from pulling the trigger, one second from ending this for you…” he trailed off, shaking his head in frustration.

“There was nothing Damien could have done,” Liam told Michael. “The locals showed up and grabbed him. He was shouting at them that we were the ones that called, but they wouldn’t listen. And Hanson slipped away.”

“I’m so fucking sorry, Mike,” Damien said, voice full of apology, of failure. “You’ve been through enough. I wanted to take this burden from you. And I couldn’t.”

Michael swallowed and slowly shook his head. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I caused all of this. Set everything in motion the moment I killed Jake. Everything that Hanson’s done since is on me. This is my burden. Not yours.”

Damien saw the signs of Michael shutting down again, the guilt in his hazel eyes. He took a step forward. “Mike, no…”

But Michael took a step back, holding up his hands in front of him, preventing Damien from getting any closer. “Don’t,” he ground out. Then before Damien or Liam could stop him, he pushed past them both and strode out of the flat.

The sound of the door slamming closed behind him was shotgun loud in the quiet.

“Dammit,” Damien cursed, dropping his head and running a hand over his face.

Liam stepped up beside him and rested a hand on his lower back. Damien looked up with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have told him.”

“Yes, you should have. No more secrets, Damien.”

“All I did was make things worse for him.”

“No, it would have been worse if you’d kept it from him,” Liam replied. “We’ll help him get through this.”

Damien gave a short nod and tugged Liam around in front of him, dropping his head to Liam’s shoulder, his hands on Liam’s hips. He felt the long day catching up with him, images and faces tumbling through his mind—Michael, Hanson, Matlock, Knox, the missing triggers. “Damn, I’m tired.”

Liam ran a hand over Damien’s short hair. “Same. This mission’s taking its toll on all of us.” He gave Damien’s arms a squeeze. “Come on, let’s get in bed. We’ll wait for Michael there.”

Damien straightened up and followed Liam into the bedroom where they both shed their clothes and slid under the sheets. Damien tangled his naked body around Liam’s, kissing his shoulder.

“I feel like we haven’t had five minutes together lately,” he murmured.

“Then let’s take five minutes,” Liam answered quietly. “Right now. Let’s block everything out. It’s just you and me and nothing else.”

Damien’s answer was a long kiss that Liam returned, igniting a slow burn inside Damien as their tongues danced together. Their bodies moved languidly against one another, hands roaming over bare skin, heat pooling at their groins. Damien reached a hand down between them and stroked them both, pulling a short groan from Liam, then a longer one as his finger then found the puckered muscle of his entrance.

“Yes…” Liam breathed into the kiss. “Need you…”

Damien needed him, too, and moments later his slick cock pushed slowly inside Liam’s body. Liam arched his back on a low moan, his legs wrapping around Damien’s waist, drawing Damien deeper into himself until he had taken in all of Damien’s thick length.

Their bodies rocked together, Damien’s hips rolling slow and long over and over again, their mouths meeting and parting, soft panting breaths filling the room as they rode the building wave, as it washed everything else away. There was only the two of them right now, in this moment. And when the wave finally crashed over them they swallowed down each other’s quiet cry of completion as Liam spilled hot and wet between them and Damien filled him with liquid heat.

They held one another as they settled, Damien’s body heavy and sated. “Thank you,” he murmured against Liam’s chest as his eyes slid closed, his mind finally blessedly blank and quiet as sleep claimed him moments later.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“…no…n-no, please…”

The quiet, tortured voice pulled Damien awake hours later. Groggy, he blinked open sleep-heavy eyes to the darkness of the bedroom. Liam was sleeping soundly next to him. Then who…?

“…no…”

Damien rolled slowly to his side, trying not to wake Liam, and spied Michael lying on the very edge of the bed, facing away from him. It was a testament to how tired Damien had been that he hadn’t heard or felt Michael get into bed with he and Liam. But he was glad he was here, that he’d decided to not spend the night alone in one of the other flats.

“…please…”

The tortured whisper came again, Michael shifting restlessly against the mattress and pillow, obviously caught in a nightmare. His heart aching, Damien slid over to his partner and wrapped a comforting arm around him.

“Mike,” he said quietly, rubbing his hand gently over Michael’s chest. “Wake up, Mike.”

Michael’s whole body gave a shudder at Damien’s touch, his voice, and his eyes opened, his arm trying to reach out to something only he could see.

“Kerry!” he gasped.

Damien’s chest clenched at the anguish in that one word. “No, Mike…it’s me. You need to wake up.”

Michael blinked several times and Damien could sense the moment that he was released from the nightmare’s pull and came back to himself, releasing a shaky breath and swallowing hard. Michael turned to him then, pain radiating from his hazel eyes before he closed them and buried his head in the crook of Damien’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry…” Michael whispered brokenly.

Damien didn’t know if Michael was apologizing to him or to Kerry, but it didn’t matter. He could feel the tension in his partner’s body, how unsettled he still was. He smoothed his hand up and down Michael’s broad back, in between his shoulder blades for long minutes. Gradually he felt Michael begin to relax. But Damien fought against drifting back off again, no matter how tired he was, staying awake and watching over Michael until sleep claimed his partner. Only then did Damien close his own eyes and allow himself to rest.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael pounded the heavy bag relentlessly, his fists pistoning, his face and bare upper body coated in a sheen of sweat. He’d come down here to the makeshift gym without a word after they had all reconvened at the crib and gone through Dalton’s debrief. To go over how fucked they were.

Evans was dead.

The nuclear triggers and bombs were gone.

Hanson escaping. Again.

Images and words tumbled through Michael’s head as he continued his assault on the heavy bag.

_“Michael! How’s the wife?”_

_“Take the shot, buddy, it’s your kill!”_

_Kerry’s face, over and over, just as in his nightmare_

Taunting him, torturing him with his failure. He could have ended it all right there at Cold Fall Ridge. But he was too fucking slow. Too fucking slow to change out his empty clip for a full one and take the shot before Evans got in the way.

His fault…his fault…

He gave a harsh, hoarse cry and swung harder, his knuckles burning with the force of his punches.

“—ael? Michael?”

Liam’s concerned voice broke though the fog in his head and he staggered to a halt, letting his arms fall to his side, now lead weights. He started to turn around but physical exhaustion finally caught up with him and he slumped sideways, nearly falling, but hit the wall instead. His legs gave out and he slid down into a heap on the floor, his head hanging between his bent knees, breath coming in pants.

“Christ! Michael!” Liam sprang to his side and dropped down beside him, one hand gripping his shoulder, his other on Michael’s leg.

Michael raised his head with effort and rested it back against the wall. “I was supposed to protect her,” he mumbled. “It was my job to keep her safe. But I killed her, as if I’d pulled the trigger myself…”

Liam squeezed his shoulder hard. “_No_. Michael, you can’t think that way.”

But Michael ignored his words. “He keeps slipping through my grasp. It’s my punishment…Hanson getting away with it.” He swallowed hard. “And I deserve it. There’s no one to blame for her death but me.”

“That’s bollocks and you know it!” Liam shook his shoulder until Michael finally looked him in the eye. Liam’s jaw was set, his blue eyes hard. “Don’t you give up, Michael. Not when Damien and I haven’t. Kerry _will_ get justice. Hanson is _going_ to pay for what he did. But only if we work together.” He squeezed Michael’s shoulder again. “Copy that?”

The passion in Liam’s voice broke through the ice in Michael’s chest. He was right. He owed it to Kerry to keep trying until his last breath. Or Hanson’s. He gave a slow nod and covered Liam’s hand with his own. “Together,” he replied roughly. “Copy that.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien swallowed down the vile taste in his mouth as he ended the call. He’d known what was coming as soon as Dalton mentioned the CIA in her briefing earlier. And sure enough, she’d pulled him aside and ordered him to make contact with Christy Bryant. To find out what she and the Agency knew about Walter Lutulu’s prison escape and his connection to Conrad Knox. The smugness in Christy’s voice turned his stomach when he asked for a meet. She thought he was crawling back to her again. But no, not this time.

He looked over to where Liam and Michael were unpacking supplies, here in their new crib location. After the fiasco at Cold Fall Ridge, Section 20 was on the verge of being deported by Dreyer, so Dalton had informed everyone they were going dark. So they’d packed up the crib and moved here, hopefully off Dreyer’s radar.

Damien sighed as he slipped the phone back in his pocket and watched them work. He hated that Christy held all the power. That she held all of his secrets. Secrets about what he’d done. That Michael and Liam could never find out about.

He walked over to the two of them and they paused, looking over at him.

“All set?” Michael asked.

Damien nodded. “Yeah. She wants to meet at the aquarium in fifteen minutes.”

Both Michael and Liam nodded and for a split second Damien saw a flash of uncertainty in both their eyes. He hated that he’d put that there. But Christy would not be blindsiding him this time. He’d fucked up once with her and hurt the two men that meant the most to him. It wouldn’t be happening a second time.

Damien cleared his throat in the sudden silence, searching for a topic other than Christy. “Hey,” he said to Liam. “I don’t think I said how bad ass you were at Cold Fall Ridge. You definitely need to get out from behind that computer more often.”

Liam laughed, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink at the praise.

“Yeah, seriously, mate,” Michael chimed in. “You were a huge asset out there.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that,” Liam smiled. “I think maybe I’m getting a taste for field work.” His gaze turned serious. “I’d rather be out there with the two of you than watching on a screen.”

Damien moved closer and clasped his shoulder warmly. “I think Bravo Four sounds good on you.”

Julia appeared from around the corner. “Liam? We need you.”

“Be right there,” Liam replied and she left with a nod.

“We should get going, too,” Michael said, also giving Liam’s shoulder a clasp.

“See you both back here shortly,” Liam said, giving them both a smile before following after Julia.

Michael turned to Damien. “Ready to go reel in some intel?”

Damien huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. “I think I’m gonna need a bigger boat.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Their joking continued as Michael pulled up in front of the aquarium and Damien knew his partner was doing his best to distract him. He knew how uncomfortable Damien was with meeting Christy again.

“If I’m not back in ten minutes, call the Coast Guard,” he quipped as he opened the door and stepped out of the car.

The interior of the aquarium was dim, better to see the fish…and the sharks. One shark in particular. Damien’s skin crawled as he spied Christy standing in front of the largest tank in the aquarium. She had played him for years. Well now it was his turn.

He took a breath as he came to a stop beside her, falling into his role. “I want to go home. I need you to clear my record, Christy.”

There was a time, not long ago, when those words were absolutely true. He wanted nothing more than to get his life back that had been so unfairly taken from him by a conspiracy that ran deep. But he’d had that chance himself. Held the documents in his hand that would exonerate him. And he’d burned them. He’d found a new home here. With Twenty. With Liam. With Michael.

But Christy didn’t know that. And the smug look on her face showed that she believed the fake plea in Damien’s voice.

“Twenty’s tracking weapons of mass destruction, right? Who are you targeting?”

Damien tried not to grin. Oh, he’d landed this shark alright. “Conrad Knox,” he answered. “But you already know that. He was behind that jail break in Zimbabwe to free Walter Lutulu.” He paused. “Can you tell me where Knox is?”

Christy sniffed. “Dalton tell you to ask me that? You are working for the wrong woman.”

That gave Damien pause. Because she’d actually hit the mark with that statement. Not that he should be working for Christy, which is what she was implying, but he hadn’t trusted Dalton from the start. He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know that,” he answered honestly.

Christy pinned him with a satisfied expression, believing she’d won. “If you really do want to go home, there’ll be a price to pay. You do understand that.”

Damien continued to play into her game. “Yeah,” he answered, voice subdued.

And there it was, that flash of superiority, of victory, in her cold eyes before she turned and walked away.

Damien released a long breath, feeling dirty from being in close proximity with her again. _Hopefully for the last time_, he thought as he made his way back to the entrance. But somehow he doubted that.

He blinked against the daylight as he pushed open the doors and walked back outside, just as Julia’s urgent voice came over comms in his ear.

_“Bravo Team, the crib is under immediate threat. It’s Dreyer.”_

Damien’s pulse leapt just as Michael shouted at him. “Scott, let’s move!”

Damien threw himself into the passenger seat and as Michael tore out of the parking lot he spared a glance at him, one name flashing unspoken between them.

Liam.

Damien clenched his jaw. “Fucking drive faster, Mike.”


	13. Chapter 13

Sinclair was dead.

Liam stood in stunned silence in the surreal scene surrounding him. The major’s body lay at his feet, Dreyer’s body farther off to his left. He lay in a crumpled, bloody heap where Julia had justifiably murdered him just moments before. The only reason he wasn’t dead by Liam’s hand was that his sidearm was empty and Julia had been closer to Damien to take his gun and end the bastard’s life.

He hadn’t known Sinclair long, but he was a dedicated soldier and commanding officer and Liam felt his loss keenly. Especially since with his last breath he had shouted out a warning to he and Dalton and Julia. But for Michael and Damien and Julia—their grief and anger over Sinclair’s senseless death was palpable. Their long-time friend had been executed and it would not go unpunished.

Dalton crouched down next to Sinclair and retrieved the computer module he had taped to the bottom of his shoe. She clutched it tight in her hand. “Knox ordered this. It’s not over until we get that son-of-a-bitch.”

She stood and Liam watched everyone’s expressions change to one of determined resolve, himself included.

“Richmond and I will make arrangements for Sinclair’s body to be sent home,” Dalton continued. “The three of you find somewhere to hole up for the night. I’ll be in contact in the morning and we’ll regroup.”

There were nods all around and then everyone’s attention turned to their fallen comrade. In silence they carefully, reverently, lifted Sinclair’s body and placed it in the back of the truck that the mercenaries had used. Dalton climbed into the drivers seat but Julia remained in the back to watch over the major, fresh tear tracks on her face. Liam, Michael and Damien remained still, watching the truck until it disappeared into the night.

It hit Liam then, as he looked at the carnage around him, how close he had come to dying that night, the weight of the events that had transpired threatening to suddenly crush him. He moved on auto-pilot and followed Michael and Damien to their car. He climbed into the front with Michael, Damien sitting in the back behind him.

“I’m going to take us back to the flats,” Michael said quietly as he pulled away. “I doubt they’ve been compromised.”

Heavy silence descended in the car as Michael drove them back north of the city center. He glanced Liam’s way and reached over to lay a warm, comforting hand on Liam’s leg as Damien curled a hand over his shoulder from the back seat. Liam pulled in a stuttering breath at their connection as he looked out unseeingly into the night outside his window, his thoughts caught in a loop of gunfire and blood. Used to a life behind a computer, he wasn’t prepared for the up-close death of someone he knew, and it had shaken him deeply.

He didn’t even realize he was trembling until Michael turned on the heat in the car and squeezed his leg gently. “Hang in there, we’re almost to the flat,” he said softly.

Liam nodded, the bone-deep chill finally making itself known. His fatigues were soaked through to his skin, his short hair still wet as well, but he knew it was more than that. He was crashing from the massive amounts of adrenaline that had been coursing through him for the last hour. As he fought for his life.

They arrived at the flats twenty minutes later and Michael and Damien, being armed, did a quick surveillance of the exterior. Finding nothing amiss they motioned for Liam to join them and the three of them went inside together, back into the same flat they’d been using previously.

Damien flipped on one low light in the living room then turned to Liam and pulled him into his arms. “Come here,” he said gruffly.

Liam went willingly, exhaling a ragged breath as Damien held him close, followed a moment later by Michael’s arms encircling them both. Liam closed his eyes as they rested their heads together, their concern for him, that they’d nearly lost him, evident in their embrace. Liam’s chest tightened as he realized all over again how close he had come to dying, and despite the heat of their bodies he was still shaking.

Michael placed a kiss on his temple and then stepped back. “Get him in the shower, get him warm,” he told Damien quietly. “I’ll go round up dry clothes for all of us.”

Where Michael was going to find clean clothes at this time of night, since they had cleared out the flat when the crib relocated, Liam had no idea, but he didn’t question him as Michael disappeared out the front door. Damien dipped his head for a brief kiss before they both made their way to the bathroom.

Liam removed his boots then stripped off his wet fatigues, socks and underwear as Damien turned on the shower. It wasn’t long before steam began filling the room. Damien brushed a hand down Liam’s back as he stepped around him, heading for the door, but Liam snagged his wrist.

“Stay,” he murmured. Being alone was the last thing he wanted right then.

It was apparent in Damien’s blue eyes that he felt the same, and a moment later he was naked as well, following Liam into the shower. The hot water stung Liam’s chilled skin as he stepped under the spray, letting it flow over him. He drew Damien to him, their arms encircling each other as their mouths met softly. The kiss lingered, just gentle presses of their lips as they shared their pain, their loss, their fear until they eased back and simply held one another as the warm water caressed their bodies.

But it was a long time before Liam finally stopped shaking.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When he and Damien emerged from the bathroom, towels wrapped around their waists, Michael had returned and was lying in bed. Liam spied three sets of clothes laid out on the dresser, but when Michael lifted up the sheet for him, he decided against the sweatshirt and sweatpants for skin to skin contact instead. He dropped the towel and slid in beside Michael, who drew him in for a long, soft kiss.

“Feeling better?” Michael asked as Liam settled onto his back, Damien now on the other side of him, both of their bodies touching his.

Liam let out a long breath at the comforting contact. “I am now.” He lay a hand on Michael’s arm. “I’m so sorry about Sinclair. I know the two of you went back many years.”

Michael averted his gaze for a moment, a flash of grief in his expression. Then he turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow and reached out to cup the side of Liam’s face, his thumb brushing just under the cut on Liam’s cheek. His hazel eyes were somber. “Can you tell us what happened?” he asked, voice rough.

Liam took a beat, gathering his thoughts. “Dreyer showed up at the crib with a half dozen armed men,” he began. “We still don’t know how he found us. He called Dalton out about us not leaving the country when we were told. We knew things were going to go bad as soon as he arrived, so Sinclair…” he paused for a second then continued. “He wanted to copy the core software onto a portable drive but he needed more time. So I bought him some by mixing it up with one of Dreyer’s men.” He touched the cut. “Got this for my trouble but it was the extra few seconds Sinclair needed.”

Liam took a breath. “Dreyer’s men rounded us all up and shoved us in a truck. They drove us to where you found us. They bound our hands and separated us into individual cells. They left us alone for a while and when they came back the one in charge told us there was someone there from the British embassy to see us.” He shook his head, mouth compressed. “We all knew it was a lie. He took the major outside first.”

He paused for a moment again, looking up at the ceiling, his voice hollow. “A minute later we heard Sinclair—“ he swallowed hard against the sudden tightening in his throat and squeezed his eyes closed. “We heard him yell ‘It’s a trap’…and then a gunshot. Followed by a second one,” he forced out hoarsely. He opened his eyes and looked at Damien and Michael, at the pain and anger on their faces. “We knew he was gone,” he said quietly. “But he saved our lives, warning us like that.”

Liam cleared his throat. “They came for Dalton next. I don’t know how she freed her hands, but the next thing I know I’m hearing a hell of a lot of gunfire followed by her racing back inside to Julia and I. She released us from the cells and gave us each a firearm. We tried shooting our way out but we were outnumbered and outgunned. Then we all ran out of ammunition.” He reached out and touched both Michael and Damien. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did…I’d be dead. We all would have been. I have no doubt about that.”

Damien leaned in and kissed him gently, followed by Michael, acknowledging once again how close they’d all come to having the night end even more tragically.

“Sinclair and I butted heads,” Damien said, his blue eyes filled with sadness. “But he was a good officer. A good man. He sure as hell didn’t deserve this.”

“No, mate, he didn’t,” Michael agreed, his voice hard. “And Knox _will_ pay. Just like Dreyer did.”

“Tomorrow,” Damien said, reaching over Liam to curl a hand over Michael’s shoulder and give it a soft squeeze. “We nearly lost Liam. Tonight…it’s the three of us.”

Liam saw the tension visibly drain from Michael’s body at Damien’s touch, his words.

“You’re right,” Michael nodded at Damien then turned to Liam, who was now struggling to keep his eyes open. Michael smiled softly and ran his fingers through Liam’s short hair. “Come here,” he encouraged him, rolling onto his back.

His limbs heavy with exhaustion, Liam rolled toward Michael and placed his head on Michael’s chest, an arm draped over his waist. A moment later he felt Damien curl himself along his back, entwining their legs together, a warm hand on his arm.

Held safely between them, Liam did his best to push away thoughts of death and loss and focus on the living, on the two men who cared for him, as he let sleep pull him under.

~*~*~*~*~*~

_He was back in the cell_

_Cold, dark, damp_

_Dalton was there_

_Julia and Sinclair were there_

_It’s a trap!_

_Not Sinclair’s voice_

_Who…?_

_Out in the pouring rain_

_A body face down at his feet_

_Wrong, wrong_

_This was wrong_

_Crouching down, heart pounding_

_Turning the body over_

_Damien’s lifeless, bloody face staring up at him_

_Gasping, stumbling back, slipping in the rain_

_Falling, falling…._

_He was back in the cell_

_Cold, dark, damp_

_Dalton was there_

_Julia and Sinclair were there_

_It’s a trap!_

_Not Sinclair’s voice_

_Who…?_

_Out in the pouring rain_

_A body face down at his feet_

_Wrong, wrong_

_This was wrong_

_Crouching down, heart pounding_

_Turning the body over_

_Michael’s lifeless, bloody face staring up at him_

_Yelling, screaming_

_No! NO!_

“No!”

Caught in the throws of his nightmare, Liam jolted himself awake with his own cry, pulse racing, heart slamming against his chest. He reached out blindly in the dark, searching for Michael and Damien, to find hands reaching back for him.

“It’s okay...”

“We’ve got you…”

Liam pulled in a stuttering breath, his eyes struggling to focus in the dimness of the room. He felt Michael and Damien still on either side of him, alive and well, both of their hands lying gently on his chest.

“It was you. It was both of you. Lying in the rain. Not Sinclair…” he rambled, but he saw it in their faces they understood.

He clenched his fists in the sheets, squeezed his eyes closed, trying to banish the disturbing images still playing in a loop against the backs of his eyelids.

“It’s okay. We’re fine. We’re right here,” Damien whispered and pressed his lips softly against Liam’s.

And the images flickered.

“More…get them out of my head…” Liam pleaded gruffly, surging up into Damien’s kiss, reaching for Michael as well.

Again, they understood, surrounding him with their strong, solid bodies and he gave himself over to them. Damien kissed him deeply, stealing his breath, as Michael’s mouth and hands trailed over his naked body. Liam moaned at the sensations, his own hands flexing against their bare skin as a fire sparked to life inside him. He shifted restlessly, trying to get impossibly closer to them both. With each touch of their fingers, each taste of their kiss the remaining vestiges of his nightmare continued to flicker out one by one. Until there was nothing but pleasure. And Liam wanted more.

Damien eased back, shifting to kiss wetly down the side of Liam’s neck, starting behind his ear at the sensitive skin there. Liam shivered as Damien’s mouth moved down his neck to the top of his shoulder and Michael’s hands moved down as well. He cupped Liam through the sheet, caressing his cock and heavy balls.

Liam gasped, pushing up into Michael’s touch, lifting his legs, bending them at the knee and spreading them in invitation. The sheet slipped away then, sliding smoothly down his body until he was laid bare.

As Damien’s mouth continued its exploration of Liam’s chest, Michael moved out of his view, but was back in just a few moments, moving between Liam’s legs. Liam made a noise in the back of his throat, his eyes closing as Michael took him in hand, stroking. His fingers flexed in Damien’s short hair as he felt himself lengthen and harden against Michael’s palm, warmth from the fire spreading through him now, gathering low in his belly.

Michael’s thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves under the swollen head of his cock, then dipped into the slit, pulling a shudder from Liam and a burst of precome. Michael swirled the sticky fluid around as Damien’s tongue found one of his nipples. Damien sucked and Liam’s hips bucked up.

“Yes!” he ground out. “More…”

Both Michael and Damien eagerly obliged him. Damien continued to lave Liam’s nipple with his tongue and lips, his fingers playing with its twin as two other slick fingers pressed inside him. Liam’s mouth fell open and he arched his neck back into the pillow. But he tolerated Michael’s stretching fingers for only a minute, his body craving more. Now.

He spread his legs wider and pushed his hips up. “Michael…please…” he breathed.

Michael locked eyes with him and he saw the same hunger and desire Liam knew was reflected in his own. The fingers withdrew and both Michael and Damien shifted. Damien stretched out alongside Liam’s body as Michael leaned over it, one hand braced near Liam’s shoulder, the other down between his legs, guiding himself to the small puckered muscle. Then he was pushing inside, filling Liam completely as Damien took Liam’s cock in his hand and stroked.

Liam cried out at the dual stimulation and he let himself fall into the sensations Michael and Damien were creating within him—stroking inside and out, over and over, stoking the flame higher and higher. Michael felt so good, long and thick, so deep in him. Damien’s mouth was on his again, his tongue sliding sensuously against his own as his hand created delicious friction against his aching cock.

Liam didn’t fight the oncoming rush, wanting to be swept away, needing to be swept away. So when the wave crested he let himself go, his body shaking with the intensity. He cried out once with his own release, thick streams coating his chest, and a second as Michael filled him with thick streams of his own.

Spent, mentally and physically, he let himself drift, coming back down from the high slowly. Hands smoothed softly over his skin, followed by equally gentle kisses until he was cocooned once again between Michael and Damien. A small, content smile played at the corners of his mouth as he let his eyes close.

And there were no more nightmares.

~*~*~*~*~*~

They lay quietly together the next morning, tangled up under the sheets, each lost in their own thoughts as they waited to hear from Dalton. Liam was trying to hold on to the feeling of contentment from last night, right before he fell asleep, but he could sense the agitation rising within Michael next to him. Itching to get back in the fight. Not only to avenge Kerry now, but Sinclair as well.

Unable to keep still any longer, Michael dropped a distracted kiss on Liam’s temple and pushed himself up and off the bed and headed out into the living room, his posture stiff. Liam sighed in concern as he watched Michael through the open doorway, pacing in front of the sliding glass doors. It was obvious to Liam that Michael needed an outlet to release his growing tension and refocus himself before it got the better of him. And Liam had an idea of how he could do just that for him.

As if reading his mind, Damien nudged Liam’s shoulder and tipped his head in the direction of the living room. “Go on,” he said quietly.

Liam smiled gently at Damien, kissing him briefly before picking up the small tube from the bedside table and padding softly out into the living room. The sun was just coming up, bathing Michael’s bare skin in soft shades of pinks and oranges where he stood in front of the glass, palms flat against it, head hanging.

Liam dropped the tube onto the arm of the sofa then stepped up beside Michael and ran a hand slowly up his back. “Hey,” he whispered.

Michael raised his head at the soothing gesture and Liam saw the disquiet in his hazel eyes. “Sorry, I just…” he trailed off with a frustrated exhalation and a shake of his head.

He stepped closer as Michael straightened up, running his hands up Michael’s chest to his shoulders, the muscles taught beneath his fingers. “You were there for me last night,” he said softly. “Let me be here for you now.” He touched their foreheads together. “Tell me what you need…”

Liam saw the gratitude in Michael’s eyes at what he was offering an instant before they went dark with desire. “This…” Michael breathed harshly, clutching at Liam’s hips, pulling him flush against himself.

The kiss was hungry, their teeth clacking together as Michael plundered Liam’s mouth, their tongues tangling. Liam swallowed down Michael’s low groan as his hands grasped at Liam, fingers flexing against his skin, Liam gladly giving himself over to Michael, letting him take all that he had to give.

Heat flared between them as the kiss grew in intensity, as their bodies began rocking together, hips jerking, cocks swiftly hardening with the friction. Michael groaned again, echoed by Liam, his hands now on Michael’s ass, holding him close as they rutted against each other.

Liam broke the kiss with a gasp, nearly lightheaded, his lips wet and stinging. Michael was breathing just as hard, face flushed, eyes blown wide, unfocused in his arousal. Liam’s cock throbbed at the sight and he pressed Michael back up against the glass door, then dropped to his knees.

Michael’s hard length was sliding down his throat an instant later, the salty-sweet taste of his precome coating Liam’s tongue.

“_Liam…_” Michael ground out, spreading his legs wide, his head falling back against the glass.

Liam didn’t tease, working Michael’s cock with his mouth, sucking hard, bobbing his head, holding onto Michael’s muscular thighs. His tongue pressed on the bundle of nerves just below the swollen head, then dipped into the slit, drawing out more of Michael’s taste, swallowing it down.

“Fuck…” Michael hissed, his hands coming to rest on either side of Liam’s head as his hips jerked forward.

Understanding what Michael wanted, Liam stilled his movements, opening his jaw wider, letting Michael’s cock slip further down his throat as Michael pumped his hips in short thrusts.

Liam hummed in approval and arousal, reaching down between his own legs to stroke himself as Michael fucked his mouth, his cock heavy against his palm, leaking steadily.

“So good…so good…” Michael panted raggedly above him.

Liam swallowed around Michael’s cock, expecting to push him over the edge and eagerly swallow down his release, but instead Michael withdrew completely, hissing sharply as his cock slipped from Liam’s mouth. Liam barely had time to draw in a breath and Michael was tugging him to his feet, sealing his mouth to Liam’s once again. Liam pressed into Michael’s strong, hard body as they kissed fiercely, Michael’s arms winding around Liam, tremors running under their skin.

His arousal spiking, Liam moaned as one of Michael’s fingers drifted between his ass, pressing firmly against his entrance. Liam pressed back, giving Michael permission without words. Michael made a noise in the back of his throat then swiftly broke the kiss. Liam had just a moment to snatch the tube from the arm of the couch, pressing it into one of Michael’s hands, before Michael turned Liam away from him. As Liam’s hands slapped against the glass door, he spread his legs wide, his hips canting backward in invitation. He looked over his shoulder, saw heat flash in Michael’s eyes an instant before the slick, blunt head of Michael’s cock breached him.

Michael groaned hoarsely behind him as Liam pulled in a short breath at the sudden stretch and burn, which quickly turned to pleasure the further Michael pressed inside him. He claimed Liam’s mouth once again, sharp and brief, then moved back, biting at his lower lip as he glanced down to where they were joined, then back up again, a silent question in his eyes.

“God yes, Michael…do it,” Liam answered roughly. “Let it out…”

And Michael did. His grip was firm and strong on Liam’s waist as he started to move, hips thrusting, taking Liam hard and fast. Liam’s eyes squeezed shut, his head hanging as sparks blossomed up and down his spine like an electrical current flowing just under his skin as Michael pushed deeper and deeper. And Liam pushed back, encouraging Michael to release everything pent up inside him, taking everything Michael needed to purge from within him.

“Fuck…_Liam_…” Michael ground out, hips snapping.

“Don’t stop…” Liam pleaded as Michael’s rock hard cock filled him over and over, each thrust another wave of sheer arousal that threatened to sweep him away.

He wanted to reach down and touch himself but he resisted, pushing his impending climax away by force of will until Michael found completion first. Only then would he let go.

But his careful plan went up in smoke a moment later. He felt Damien’s presence beside him just before Michael groaned his partner’s name. Liam raised his head, eyes opening, then widening in arousal as he looked over his shoulder at Damien and Michael kissing long and deep as Michael continued to fuck him.

His cock throbbed at the sight, pulling a low whine from his throat. Damien and Michael parted at the sound, and the raw hunger he saw in both their eyes made his breath stutter in his chest. Damien surged forward and captured his mouth, his tongue pushing and sliding against Liam’s own until he had to pull back for air. With a glint in his blue eyes, Damien sank down to his knees, just fitting himself between Liam’s spread legs and the glass door.

Liam knew what was coming, but he still shuddered when Damien took him in his mouth, a breathy moan falling from his lips as his cock was enveloped in warm, wet heat. And then there was nothing but heightened sensation. Caught between Michael and Damien, he pushed back onto Michael’s cock as he thrust into Liam, then forward, his own cock sliding down Damien’s throat, over and over. His head was spinning, panting harshly as he watched Damien suck him, felt Michael fuck him. The feeling was nearly beyond words and he never wanted it to end, but the dual stimulation was too much, too much…

His climax was a tidal wave that crashed over him and he shook with the force of it, crying out with the intensity as his cock pulsed again and again, spilling his release down Damien’s throat. Michael kept rolling his hips as Liam came, as Damien eagerly drank down everything he had to give.

When he was spent, lightheaded, Damien surged to his feet, kissing Liam deeply and Liam could taste himself on Damien’s tongue. It was then he realized that Michael hadn’t come, he was still hard inside him, as Damien’s own erection pressed against his belly.

There was a question in Damien’s eyes when they parted, and Liam nodded with a soft smile, understanding how much he wanted to be a part of helping Michael, too. Damien kissed him again before he stepped back and turned his attention to his partner, his mouth now claiming Michael’s.

As they kissed hungrily, both of them still very much aroused, Liam moved just slightly, letting Michael’s cock slip slowly from his body. Michael made a sound of protest, breaking the kiss, trying to pull Liam back to him. But Liam shook his head as he turned to face Michael, stepping in close.

“Damien’s turn…” he whispered against Michael’s lips.

Michael groaned as Liam kissed him quick then turned, stepping away as Damien took his place. But Damien hooked an arm around his waist, pulling him back against his body.

“Stay…need you, too…” he breathed against Liam’s ear.

His low, gruff voice sent a shiver through Liam and he leaned back against him just as Damien exhaled harshly, followed quickly by a throaty moan.

“Damien…” Michael gasped at the same time and Liam knew that he was now buried inside him.

Damien’s slick cock pressed against Liam’s ass, sending another jolt through him, his body pleading with him to be filled again, to have all three of them connected.

“Yes…” he inhaled sharply.

Already stretched and open, as Michael thrust into Damien, rocking him forward, Liam pressed back and his body eagerly and easily took in Damien’s long length. Liam pulled in a deep breath as he was filled again so completely, his head falling back as he leaned forward to brace himself against the glass once again.

Michael began to move in earnest then, their bodies rocking together as he snapped his hips, the sensation reverberating through Damien and into Liam.

“Oh fuck, _fuck_…” Damien cursed hoarsely, his hands curling around Liam’s hips, holding on tightly.

His body already hyper-sensitive, Liam felt the tremors racing under his skin again as Damien moved deep inside him again and again.

“More…Mike…” Damien panted, high and tight.

“_Christ_…Damien…Liam…” Michael’s voice was equally as raw, and Liam knew from both their tones that this triple joining was reaching its crescendo, all of them too on edge for it to last long.

He pushed back hard in counterpoint to Damien’s thrusts, his cock finding the spot inside Liam that made his own cock throb, his body wanting to come again.

“So good…so good…yes!”

Michael’s sharp shout of completion echoed in the room and Liam heard clearly in that last word that he had found both the physical and emotional release he had needed.

“Fuck, _yeah_…” Damien ground out in reply, pushing hard into Liam once, twice more.

Liam gasped, his neck arching back as Damien’s cock swelled within him as he came in long pulses deep inside him. His cock throbbed hard in response and although he didn’t ejaculate again, the rush of endorphins made it seem like he had, his skin tingling with a pleasurable warmth in its wake.

Damien gathered him in his embrace, his head resting in the crook of Liam’s shoulder, and for long moments there was only the sound of all three of their ragged breaths. Gradually their bodies relaxed and Liam sighed regretfully as Damien kissed him softly on his shoulder and slipped slowly from his body. Damien gave his own quiet groan as Michael withdrew from him as well, the three of them turning to face one another.

Liam could instantly see the difference in Michael. Calmer now, the tension gone from his body, his eyes clear. He was refocused and re-centered once again, his emotions over Kerry and Sinclair’s deaths in check.

They moved in close, arms encircling one another, hands smoothing slowly over bare skin.

“Thank you,” Michael murmured, kissing both Liam and Damien softly.

“Don’t ever think you can’t ask for what you need, Michael,” Liam replied gently.

“You’re not alone in this, Mike,” Damien added.

Michael nodded, his expression one of gratitude as he kissed them both again.

The sudden ringing of Michael’s cell phone broke the quiet moment and all three of them hurried toward the bedroom, Liam’s pulse jumping. It had to be Dalton.

“Stonebridge,” Michael answered.

He nodded several times as he listened. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll let them both know. We’ll be there shortly.” He ended the call and addressed Damien and Liam. “Dalton. She’s secured a new location for the crib. An abandoned night club apparently.” He looked at Liam. “She and Julia need you there to help set up the computer equipment and security. We’ll drop you off.” He turned to Damien. “Then you and I need to go secure supplies and firepower.”

They held one another’s gaze for a long moment, preparing themselves for the continuing mission once again. Liam could see the determination in Damien and Michael’s eyes. Conrad Knox had no idea the depth of the wrath he had released when he ordered the killing of one of Section 20’s own.

But he was about to.


	14. Chapter 14

Liam stormed out of Section 20’s so-called crib at the night club and stalked down the hallway. He made a sharp right turn at the next corner, whirled and smashed his fist into the wall.

“Shit!” he cursed, at both the pain and the situation.

Both Damien and Michael were missing.

When all hell broke loose at the political rally and Walter Lutulu was shot, Michael and Damien had split up. Damien jumped in a truck with the wounded Walter and his daughter Lilian, headed for the hospital, and Michael lit out after the shooter.

That was an hour ago and neither he or Julia could raise either of them on comms. They had no idea if they were out of range, lost their comms or…

No. Liam shook off the thought. They weren’t dead. Just unreachable.

Dalton demanded tracking of her missing men and in frustration Liam kicked at the next to useless equipment they’d been able to procure. It just wasn’t going to happen.

“Improvise,” she’d told him.

Liam took a long, steadying breath, willing himself to calm down and focus. It was going to be up to him to restore contact between them and Michael and Damien.

“Improvise…improvise…” he muttered to himself, beginning to pace. The most logical explanation was that they were both out of range. Especially Damien. And the sub-par computers he and Julia were using weren’t powerful enough. He stopped pacing as an idea formed. He needed to jury-rig a signal booster somehow. He mentally began making a list of the parts he would need to scavenge, steal or purchase as he strode back toward the crib, his features set in determination. Michael and Damien were depending on him.

He would not fail them.

~*~*~*~*~*~

An hour later Liam was putting the finishing touches on his signal-booster when the sudden ringing of Dalton’s cell phone on the table broke the strained silence in the crib. Julia was the closest and quickly answered.

Her eyes widened. “Major, it’s Stonebridge.”

Liam exhaled sharply in relief as Dalton looked over at Julia. “Put him on speaker.” Julia did and Dalton addressed Michael. “Bravo Two.”

“_I’ve got the shooter in custody_,” he began. “_I haven’t fully ID’d him but he’s ex-Zimbabwe special forces_.”

“Who sent him?” Dalton asked.

“_He isn’t saying. Whoever did, they set him up. He was waiting for support that never arrived._” Michael paused. “_He’s pro-Mugabe. Fanatical_.”

Dalton blew out a breath. “Who benefits?”

Liam spoke up. “The current regime. The eliminate a rival, they get a free run at the next election.”

Dalton shook her head. “No, it’s too easy. They control the electoral process anyway. Too wise to pull something this public. This assassination’s going to bring a firestorm down on their heads.” Dalton took a beat. “Where were Matlock’s bodyguards when Lutulu made his speech?” she asked Michael.

“_There was no one_,” Michael answered. “_Scott and I would’ve noticed_.”

“Knox breaks him out then leaves him exposed. Why?” Dalton mused for a moment before lighting on the answer, her voice hard. “This was never about Lutulu taking over Zimbabwe. This is about Conrad Knox.” She paused again before directing her next question to Michael. “Are you able to extract the shooter and bring him here for further questioning?”

“_Negative_,” Michael replied. “_There’s a mob of civilians outside. They want this guy’s head. But I’m working with local law enforcement and he’s called for backup. Should be here within the hour._”

Dalton nodded. “Keep in touch.”

“_Will do_,” Michael said and ended the call.

Liam quickly double-checked the signal booster was up and functioning then excused himself. As soon as he stepped out of the room he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number he’d seen on the screen of Dalton’s phone.

It rang only once and Michael’s voice was in his ear. “_Liam_.”

He could hear the smile in Michael’s voice and he grinned as well. “How did you know it was me?”

“_You haven’t heard from me in hours. I know where your head’s at_,” he said gently.

Liam huffed out a breath. “Are you okay? Truly?”

“_I’m fine. Truly. I’m sorry I worried all of you. I lost my comms while I was chasing down the shooter. Haven’t had a chance to get in contact until now. It’s been a little crazy here.”_

Liam’s mouth tightened. “We shouldn’t be sitting here on our asses. It should be us providing ex-fil for you. Not the locals.”

“_Not this time_,” Michael disagreed. “_It’s a bunch of innocent civilians out there. The three of you would never get past all of them, armed to the teeth, without it escalating into violence. We’ll let the police handle it. Get this guy and myself out of here, de-escalate the situation. I’ll be back at the crib soon_.”

Liam couldn’t argue with Michael’s logic. Didn’t mean he liked it, though. “Copy that,” he replied.

“_Is Damien back? What’s the status on Lutulu?_”

Liam paused. “We can’t reach Damien. He either lost his comms like you, or he’s out of range, or…”

“_I’m sure he’s fine, too_,” Michael swiftly reassured him. “_He was only taking Lutulu to the hospital. How much trouble could he get into there, eh?_”

He heard the smile in Michael’s voice again and a grin teased the corner of his own mouth. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

Michael laughed. “_Forget I asked. Listen, I’ve got to go. I want to try questioning this guy once more. You’ve got this number. Call when you hear from Damien_.”

“I will. And Michael…just watch your back.”

His answer was strong and confident. “_Always_.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Liam’s signal booster worked.

It wasn’t long after he finished talking with Michael that Damien’s voice was in his ear. Relief once again flowed through him as he listened to Damien bring them all up to speed. He should have known that transporting Lutulu to the hospital wasn’t going to be a milk run and he was glad that Damien had made it out unscathed. Lutulu, though, wasn’t so lucky. Dead at the hands of Matlock’s men.

Damien had stolen an ambulance to escape with Lilian and Dalton was currently trying to get Damien to persuade her to agree to come into the crib. She was resisting, but Damien said he’d keep trying and ended the call.

Liam once again stepped into the hallway and jumped back on comms on a private channel to Damien.

“You know, Michael asked me how much trouble you could get into just transporting someone to the hospital.” He sighed. “You just can’t do anything the easy way, can you?”

Damien’s laugh was loud. “_Where’s the fun in that? Speaking of Mike, is he there with you? I lost contact with him, too_.”

Liam quickly filled Damien in on Michael’s status at the police station. “His backup should be there shortly,” he finished.

“_Sounds good_,” Damien replied. “_Hopefully we can get some more information out of that guy about Knox’s plans_.”

“And Lilian?”

Damien sighed. “_She just saw her father murdered in front of her. Her head’s not in the right place right now. She doesn’t know who she can trust. I’m going to go talk to her again. Convince her to come back to the crib with me_.”

“I know you will,” Liam replied confidently. “And I’ll be seeing both you and Michael soon. Think you can stay out of trouble that long?” he teased.

Damien laughed again. “_No promises_.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

In the end, it wasn’t Damien who broke the promise.

_“You listen to me. I have your friend. You want him to live, you bring the girl to the abandoned textile factory. Fuck me over and you’ll be picking him up in a body bag.”_

“Fuck!” Damien swore, slamming his fist down onto the steering wheel, Matlock’s words reverberating in his head. He threw open the door of the ambulance and hopped down, stalking around to the front of the vehicle as Liam came jogging out the front door of the night club. His features were grim as he came to a stop in front of Damien.

“I wanted us to go in and get Michael out,” Liam told Damien, shaking his head in frustration. “I _knew_ I should’ve insisted on it. How the _hell_ did Matlock get his hands on him?”

“Fuck if I know,” Damien replied, voice hard. “But there’s one thing I do know—Matlock’s been leaving a trail of bodies behind him. The only reason Michael’s still alive is because we have something he wants.” He tipped his head toward Lilian, still sitting in the ambulance. “As soon as Matlock has her, he’ll kill Michael.”

“Then what’s the plan to make sure that doesn’t happen?”

Damien blew out a breath and raked a hand through his short hair. “We need some kind of distraction at the exchange.”

“Do you have something in mind?”

Damien shook his head, his mouth tight, looking around him, racking his brain for ideas. And coming up with nothing. Because he had nothing to work with. “We don’t have a hell of a lot of options. Or equipment. All we’ve got is an ambulance and a dead guy.”

Liam’s eyes widened. “A _dead guy_? You have a _body_ in there?”

“What did you want me to do? Ask him to get out?”

Despite the seriousness of the situation a brief laugh escaped Liam. He shook his head. “Only you would steal a corpse.”

Some of the tension released from Damien’s shoulders and he gave Liam a small grin. “Yeah, Lilian wasn’t thrilled, either. Too bad it wasn’t a crate of grenades instead. Something a little more useful.” As the words left his mouth, an idea began to take root. Grenades. A dead body. A decoy. A distraction.

Damien pinned Liam with a sharp gaze. “We need explosives. And a triggering device. Now.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien sat in the passenger seat of the car, Liam beside him behind the wheel. Two hours had passed since Matlock’s call and the sun was just rising. As was Damien’s concern for his partner. Damien and Liam had worked frantically for every minute of those two hours, first procuring the needed supplies in the middle of the night and then rigging the ambulance with explosives and creating the triggering mechanism. Not to mention getting the dead man into position. Damien had been around death for more years than he could count, but manhandling a stiff corpse into the passenger seat of the ambulance wasn’t something he was eager to repeat anytime soon. He was just relieved that the man hadn’t died from multiple gunshot wounds and was covered in blood. There wasn’t a mark on him, which led Damien to believe his death had been from a heart attack or something similar. Either way, he was glad for Lilian’s sake, as she’d been trapped in the ambulance with the dead man for the past half hour, having to pretend it was Damien she was sitting next to. But it wouldn’t be much longer now. Matlock should be here in the next ten minutes.

“Do you think she’s going to be okay?” Liam asked, breaking into Damien’s musings.

Damien kept his gaze forward, eyes on the ambulance through the back entrance of the abandoned textile factory, the triggering device in his left hand. “I do,” he answered. “She’s grieving for her father, but she’s also angry. She wants answers. She doesn’t want to believe that Knox betrayed her and her father. But deep down I think she knows I was telling her the truth. She’s one tough, strong woman. I wouldn’t want to cross her.”

“She’s lucky you were there at the hospital, got her out.”

Damien sighed. “I don’t know. It might have been better if she’d just gone with Hanson. Michael might not be in this mess now.”

Liam jerked his head toward Damien. “_Hanson_? He was there?”

Damien flicked a glance at Liam. “Yeah. I shot him.”

Liam’s jaw dropped open. “_What_?”

Damien’s mouth compressed. “It didn’t stick. Fucker was wearing a vest. He’s like a goddamn cockroach. Can’t kill him. We mixed it up, hand-to-hand, and I burned his face. He took off after that and I got Lilian out in the ambulance.” He huffed out a breath. “When I saw him drop all I could think was ‘It’s finally over for Mike’. That I was able to do this for him…” he trailed off, angry at his failure. Again.

“I know I sound like a bloody broken record, but it wasn’t your fault,” Liam said. “And Hanson’s luck _will_ run out. We’ll make damn sure of it. But right now we need to concentrate on getting Michael back.”

Damien nodded tersely, forcing his thoughts away from Hanson and to the present. And just in time, as a second car pulled in the far end of the textile factory, directly opposite from the ambulance. A spike of adrenaline shot through Damien and he tightened his grip on the trigger, hoping Lilian would play her part, pass along his message to Michael.

Damien’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Liam. “Let’s go get Michael.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The ambulance exploded in a massive red and orange fireball.

Damien watched as Michael dropped to all fours as Liam hit the gas and tore into the factory, tires squealing. With Liam driving it freed up Damien to lay down bursts of cover fire out the passenger side window for Michael as Liam barely came to a stop next to him.

“Get in!” Damien yelled to his partner as Michael yanked open the door and threw himself into the back seat.

“You all right, Mikey?” he called over his shoulder, holding up the triggering device. “You like that one, huh?” he whooped, laughing as Liam sped back out of the factory. But the smile quickly slid away as he took in Michael’s battered, bloody face, duct tape across his mouth and binding his wrists. He also hadn’t missed the way his partner had fallen to the ground after getting out of Matlock’s car.

He turned to Liam. “Plan B.”

Liam gave a short nod in acknowledgment, his mouth tight as he drove quickly through the streets, one eye on the rearview mirror, looking for pursuit.

Damien had been hoping for Plan A—drive straight back to the crib. But he and Liam had come up with Plan B as well—scouting out a location in advance closer to the textile factory in case Michael needed medical attention. And Damien was making the call to stop and give his partner the once-over because it was obvious Michael was hurting.

Less than two minutes later Liam made a sharp right turn and guided the car into another abandoned building, prevalent in this part of town. He braked quickly and Damien was out of the car an instant later, opening the back door and sliding in next to Michael while Liam remained up front, looking worriedly over his shoulder.

“C’mere, let me see you,” he said, and Michael leaned toward him, allowing Damien to reach behind his head and unwind and remove the duct tape. Michael took a deep breath once his mouth was free and Damien went to work removing the tape from his wrists next.

“Duck?” Michael rasped. “Little more warning next time would be nice.” He tried to smile but grimaced instead.

Damien’s brown furrowed in concern. He cupped the side of Michael’s face softly. “How bad is it?”

“Matlock worked me over pretty good,” Michael admitted. “But I’ll live. Thanks to you two.” Then he leaned forward and kissed Damien before reaching for Liam’s hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

“What the hell happened, Mike?” Damien asked.

“Did your police back up not arrive?” Liam asked as well.

“Oh, they arrived alright,” Michael replied wryly. ”Only they weren’t real cops. One of them was Matlock’s sniper.”

“Shit,” Damien muttered.

“Yeah,” Michael nodded. “I took her out and the other guy as well. But then Matlock showed up. He had a bloody RPG. The next thing I knew, it was lights out.” He sighed. “Glad I was valuable enough for a trade, but I’m sorry it had to be Lilian.”

Damien shook his head. “Don’t be. She wanted to go. She needs to see for herself that Knox has been playing her and her father all along for his own agenda.” He paused. “I just don’t want to see her get caught in the crossfire.”

“Then let’s make sure that doesn’t happen, eh?” Michael said, trying to push himself up straighter in the seat, groaning as he did so, wrapping a protective arm around his middle.

Damien lay a hand on his shoulder. “First thing’s first. Let’s get you back to the crib and cleaned up.”

Michael nodded wearily. “No arguments from me.”

Damien turned to Liam and nodded and Liam turned back around in his seat and started up the car. In another moment they were pulling out of the building and back out onto the street, headed for the nightclub.

“We were worried about you,” Damien said quietly.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Michael replied, tugging Damien forward for a kiss that tasted of apology and reassurance.

When he eased back he gave Damien a tired smile and let his eyes drift shut, resting his head against the seat. Damien hesitated for a beat, not wanting to disturb his injured partner, but needing to talk to him before they arrived back at the crib. They’d promised no more secrets.

“Mike? There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Hmmm?” Michael cracked open one eye.

“Hanson was there. At the hospital. He was the one chasing Lilian and I.”

Both of Michael’s eyes opened and he raised his head, voice flat. “I take it from your tone that his body isn’t lying in the morgue?”

“No,” Damien ground out, once again disgusted at his failure. “But it sure as hell wasn’t from lack of trying. I shot the bastard, Mike. Dead fucking center. Right in his heart. And the fucker was wearing a goddamn vest.”

Michael huffed out a sharp breath and turned his gaze out the window, hazel eyes hard, his jaw muscle jumping.

“We got into it,” Damien continued. “I got in more than a few good punches, but I couldn’t hold onto him. I’m sorry…”

Heavy silence stretched for several heartbeats before Michael turned back to Damien. “This isn’t your battle, mate. It’s mine. I started this. And it has to be me that finishes it.” He paused, pinning Damien with an icy stare. “Hanson’s luck is going to run out. And I’m going to be there when it does.”


	15. Chapter 15

Liam didn’t hesitate, shrugging into his heavy tactical vest and grabbing his rifle when Lilian provided Section 20 with the location of Knox’s camp.

He didn’t hesitate to look Michael and Damien straight in the eye, telling them without words he was willing and eager to get back out into the field.

He didn’t hesitate to knock fists with them, “For Sinclair” falling from their lips as they climbed aboard the truck.

He didn’t hesitate to follow Julia into the camp as bullets tore through the air all around him, trying to steal the life from his body.

He didn’t hesitate to pull the pin on the grenade that blew the munitions tent to kingdom come.

He didn’t hesitate to celebrate the victory of Damien and Michael’s recovery of one of the nuclear warheads.

And he sure as hell didn’t hesitate to pack up the makeshift crib and relocate to Johannesburg, based on intel gathered at the camp.

Because as with Hanson, Knox’s luck was running out. And Liam was going to be there when it did.

For Sinclair.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in his eleventh floor hotel room, his steady gaze taking in the sprawling city of Johannesburg below him. He, Damien, Liam and Julia had checked in about fifteen minutes ago, after being dropped off by Dalton. She’d given them some much-needed downtime while she set off to set up a fully functional crib, complete with British military support personnel now that they were out of corrupt Cape Town. Keeping up appearances, they’d gotten three separate, but adjoining rooms while Julia and Dalton were across and down the hall.

Michael drew in a breath and crossed his arms over his chest as he surveyed the streets and buildings spread out before him. Hanson was out there, somewhere. Michael felt the noose tightening around his prey. He meant what he said to Damien, that it was his battle to fight, to end. For Kerry. And he knew the end was near. He couldn’t put into words why, but he sensed his long-awaited showdown with Hanson was nearly upon him.

“What are you doing?”

Liam’s soft voice broke through Michael’s musings and he turned his head slightly as the other man stepped up behind him, wrapping an arm loosely around Michael’s waist.

“Just…thinking.”

Liam shook his head, smiling, stepping around in front of Michael, his hands now on Michael’s hips. “Sorry, thinking is not allowed for the next,” he looked at his watch, “three hours.”

Michael let Hanson drift from his mind as he returned Liam’s smile. He uncrossed his arms and let his hands slide up to the tops of Liam’s shoulders. “Oh, is that so?”

“Is what so?” Damien asked as he wandered out of the bathroom.

Liam glanced behind him. “That Michael’s not allowed to think for the next three hours before we have to meet back up with Dalton.”

Damien nodded, stepping up beside Michael. “Liam’s right. No thinking during downtime.” He paused. “Well, not unless you’re thinking what I’m thinking,” he drawled with a smirk.

Michael cocked an eyebrow. “And what, precisely, is that?”

Damien moved in even closer, his voice pitched low. “That we have three beds…and three hours…so we’d better get started.”

And then Michael truly did lose the ability to think as first Damien’s mouth captured his own, followed by Liam’s. They turned him and he felt the glass of the window, cool against his back, while their bodies were warm and solid against his front. They traded kisses back and forth, growing in intensity by increments as hands wandered up under t-shirts to explore bare skin.

Michael knew his focus should be on the mission. On Hanson. But he also knew not to squander moments like this. Because there might not be another. Not with the life they lived.

So when Damien and Liam began to undress him, he shut off the soldier in him and let his own hands undo buttons and zippers on the clothes in front of him, until there was no more fabric between them. They moved as one, just a few steps, and fell down onto the bed in a tangle of limbs. Michael reveled in the feeling of being surrounded by soft skin and hard muscle as the three of them moved against each other. The heat between them continued to grow, centered in their groins as they kissed and touched until Michael made a noise in the back of his throat, needing more.

He reached down and took Damien in hand, stroking quickly, then Liam, pulling groans from them both. Damien shifted then, sliding down Michael’s body to take his hard cock in his mouth. It was Michael’s turn to groan then as he was surrounded by warm, wet heat. He reached for Liam, wanting to taste as well, then stopped, tugging on Damien’s arm instead.

“Wait…” he breathed and Damien lifted his head. “All of us…”

Liam and Damien smiled at him and nodded, understanding his meaning and the three of them rearranged themselves, moving their bodies into a sort of triangle position, head to groin. Damien took up where he left off, sliding Michael’s cock back into his mouth while Michael did the same with Liam’s and Liam eagerly completed the trio with Damien’s erection.

Liam’s cock was heavy and warm on Michael’s tongue and he licked and sucked, bobbing his head, tasting a sudden burst of precome as he pushed Liam slowly and steadily toward release. As Damien was doing with him, his partner’s tongue swirling around the swollen head of his cock, pressing against the bundle of nerves, dipping into the slit, drawing out a stream of his own precome in anticipation of his own release.

Michael let himself fall into the feedback loop of sucking and being sucked, the dual sensations sending a shiver through him. He heard and felt Damien groan, the vibrations sending a jolt through his cock and down into his heavy balls. He hummed in response around Liam’s cock, feeling it throb against his tongue as Liam moaned softly in return.

It wasn’t long before Michael felt the familiar tremor begin low in his belly and spread to the base of his spine as Damien continued to work his cock with his talented mouth and tongue. Michael’s hips twitched, pushing his cock into Damien’s mouth as the urge to come grew. Damien instinctively understood, opening his mouth wider and relaxing his throat, swallowing hard around Michael’s cock as Michael pumped his hips in short, shallow thrusts.

Standing on the edge of release, Michael worked Liam’s erection in tandem, knowing he was doing the same to Damien, wanting all three of them to find completion at the same time. Short, panting breaths filled the air, mixed with rumbling noises of arousal in the backs of their throats.

Almost…almost… Michael’s eyes squeezed shut and his hips stuttered as his climax began to overtake him, waiting for the rush… And Damien pulled off, letting Michael’s aching cock slip from his mouth, replacing his lips with his hand, stroking hard and fast.

“Hey, Mikey,” Damien panted gruffly, and Michael opened his eyes, seeing the glint in his partner’s. “Ready? Three, two, one…zero.”

Michael didn’t think it was possible to moan, laugh and come all at the same time, but he managed it, his cock pulsing in Damien’s grip and then down his throat as his partner took him in his mouth once again.

He heard and felt Liam laugh an instant before he came down Michael’s throat in long waves, followed closely by Damien’s choked off groan and chuckle.

Michael was smiling, breathing hard, when he let Liam’s softening cock slip from between his lips as Damien gave his own one last, long suck.

His partner gave him a self-satisfied smirk. “Huh. So you really do go on zero.”

Michael’s laugher was loud and bright, mixing with Damien and Liam’s. “Never doubt the British military, mate.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Five hours later, Liam could do nothing but watch in horror as the truck carrying the nuclear warhead exploded in a blinding flash of white light that nearly obliterated the monitors in the crib. Just minutes ago Michael and Damien had been joking about Star Trek, about Lethal Weapon, about whether or not to “go on zero”, and now they were at Ground Zero.

For the span of two heartbeats the crib was utterly silent. Then Dalton began barking out orders and everyone exploded into action. Liam forced himself to find his own voice, calling out for meteorological data, forcing down the urge to contact Damien and Michael instead. He could see them so clearly, covered under the sheets with him in bed number three, and now they could very well be covered in radiation. His stomach twisted with the thought and he pushed it away, unwilling to accept the possibility that he may just have witnessed the beginning of their slow deaths.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Have you been tested?”

The nurse’s question was a shot of ice water through Damien’s veins, bringing him up short. He and Michael hadn’t stopped moving since the truck exploded in a mushroom cloud two hours ago. They’d immediately coordinated with the local authorities and got to work helping to evacuate the citizens of the small village, including a school, relocating everyone to a nearby town. They’d just finished bringing in the last of the children to the church that was being used as a makeshift medical facility when her words brought them to an abrupt halt.

Damien exchanged a look with Michael as a hollow pit opened up inside his stomach. It hadn’t even occurred to him. And from the matching expression on his partner’s face, it’d hadn’t to him, either. The situation they were in, being nearly at Ground Zero of a nuclear explosion, suddenly became horrifyingly real.

Damien cleared his dry throat and shook his head. “No,” he answered her.

“Get it done, quick as you can,” she said before putting her mask back over her face and heading into the church.

Damien and Michael stood still and silent in a sea of movement and noise around them. Damien found himself unable to put into words what he was feeling at that moment. Numb, mostly, contemplating the worst possible outcome. He thought of the phone call he’d made to Liam a few hours ago, reassuring him that both he and Michael were fine. Now he had to tell him there was a high probability that they weren’t.

As he reached into his pocket for his phone he saw the same uncertainty in Michael’s eyes. “I’m going to call Liam,” he said quietly, putting the phone on speaker as he dialed.

Michael swallowed, gave a terse nod of his head. “Yeah, absolutely. He needs to know what’s happening.”

Liam picked up on the second ring. _“Damien. How’s the evacuation going?”_

“All good. Looks like we got everyone out,” Damien replied, then cleared his throat again. “Listen…” he paused for a moment, looking at Michael. “We’ve been told that we need to be tested. For radiation poisoning.”

There was silence on the other end for several seconds. _“Of course…yeah. That—that makes sense,”_ Liam rambled slightly. _“But according to the data I have, the wind was blowing away from you after the explosion. You’re going to be fine. Both of you. You’re going to be fine.”_

Despite Liam’s confident words, Damien heard the underlying current of fear in his tone. Damien forced optimism into his own voice. “Of course we are. Take more than this to put us down. We’ll call you when we know more.”

He ended the call and took a breath, looking from the church to Michael. “Let’s do this.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

A short time later Damien joined his partner under a tree in the back of the church where it was relatively quiet. He sat down softly onto the bench, staring straight ahead, the same as Michael. They’d both been given quick but thorough physicals, had blood drawn and external radiation scans done. Initial results from the scans were negative, which was encouraging, but only the results of the blood tests could definitively clear them…or condemn them.

Now all they could do was…wait.

The silence stretched on, Damien smoking, lost in dark thoughts, as he knew Michael was as well, from the look in his eyes and the set of his jaw. Damien looked down at his arms, picturing the veins beneath his skin that might be pumping poisonous blood throughout his body. He clenched his fists and closed his eyes.

“I’m bloody scared,” Michael admitted quietly.

Damien opened his eyes and nodded his head as Michael put voice to his own thoughts. “Yeah…me, too,” he replied, voice low, grinding out the butt of his cigarette under the toe of his boot.

Michael turned to face him. “This isn’t how we’re supposed to go out. We’re soldiers. It’s a bullet to the head or a knife to the chest. Quick. Not…this. Not a slow, painful, agonizing death.”

“Know what scares me the most?” Damien said. “That only one of us is sick. That one of us will have to watch the other…” he trailed off, swallowing hard.

Michael’s eyes widened and Damien knew that possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind. That to him, they were both going to be fine or they weren’t. Together in everything. Always. Damien wanted that to be true, now more than ever. The thought of living without Michael…

Michael shook his head. “Not going to happen, mate,” he said, tone brooking no argument. “Besides, Liam said the wind was blowing in the opposite direction. We weren’t exposed.”

His partner was grasping at straws but Damien wasn’t going to call him on it. He’d grasp right along with him. “Right,” he nodded, looking away from Michael, throat tight. “The wind…”

He pulled out another cigarette.

And they waited.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The same nurse found them a half hour later, as they were walking back toward the front of the church, having been alerted by Julia that Dalton was on her way there to meet them.

Damien saw the nurse approaching them, two pill bottles in her hands. He stopped dead in his tracks, his pulse spiking, his stomach plummeting. If she was bringing them medication…they were both sick. He locked gazes with Michael, saw both resignation and resolution in his hazel eyes. They were in this together. Until the end.

The nurse came to a stop in front of them and Damien prepared himself for the deadly diagnosis of radiation poisoning.

“Good news,” she smiled. “Both of your blood tests were negative.”

Damien blinked. “What?” he said, not quite comprehending what she was saying. He pointed to the bottles of pills. “Then those aren’t for us?”

“No, they are,” she said, handing one to each of them. “They’re potassium iodide tablets for any residual radiation. Just a precaution.” She clasped them both on their arms. “Thank you for all of your help with the evacuation today,” she said warmly before heading back toward the church.

Damien turned to face Michael, lightheaded with a sudden rush of relief. They were okay. They weren’t dying. “Guess that wind really was blowing the other way,” he grinned, needing to make light of the situation now that the danger had passed.

But Michael’s expression was both soft and serious, his eyes reflecting how close they’d come, skirting death’s grip once again. He took a step closer to Damien, reaching out for him, his head beginning to dip down when he suddenly aborted the move and took a step backwards instead. Damien’s brow furrowed in confusion as Michael cleared his throat, looking over Damien’s shoulder.

“Dalton.”

Damien blew out a frustrated breath at the interruption. Of course it had to be her.

Michael looked back at him. “Later,” he promised quietly.

Damien nodded, barely brushing his hand against Michael’s as he turned around. “Later.”

“I’ll go deal with Dalton. Why don’t you call Liam?” Michael said, pressing a warm hand against Damien’s back before walking off toward their commanding officer.

Damien tugged his phone out of his pants pocket as he watched his partner walk away, keeping his thoughts about Dalton and how she was running this mission to himself. Not that Michael wasn’t already aware of his low opinion of her.

He kept an eye on the two of them as they began talking, placing the call to Liam at the same time. Liam picked up on the first ring but Damien didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“We’re okay. Blood tests were negative.”

Damien heard the rush of a relieved exhale on the other end. _“Told you the wind was blowing the other way.”_

Damien chuckled. “Remind me to never doubt you again,” he joked, but his throat was tight with the thought that Liam had come close to possibly watching both he and Michael slowly waste away.

_“Damn straight.”_ Damien heard the smile in Liam’s voice. _“When will you be back at the crib?”_

Damien easily read between the lines of Liam’s simple question. Yeah, after the day he’d had he was eager to see Liam as well. “Soon, I’d think. Dalton’s here now,” he answered, his eyes narrowing as he watched her and Michael speaking. They’d stopped walking and were now standing close together. Michael’s body language had changed, rigid now, almost agitated, as he spoke to Dalton. And whatever she was saying back to him, Michael had difficulty meeting her eyes. Then she touched him on his arm, Michael nodded in reply and they parted, Michael heading back toward him, Dalton toward a member of the local police that had just arrived.

“Mike’s on his way back over,” he told Liam. “We’ll see you in a bit.”

_“Try not to get into any more trouble on the way, okay?”_

Damien grinned. “No promises,” he answered and ended the call as Michael stepped up beside him, his expression distant.

Concerned, Damien’s brow furrowed. He tipped his head back toward Dalton. “What was that all about? You two looked…intense.”

Michael glanced away from him, shaking his head. “Not now,” he replied, then changed the subject. “Dalton’s given us a few hours to get cleaned up then wants us back at the crib. Let’s go.”

He walked away before Damien could even reply, heading toward their car. Damien followed, holding his tongue. He knew Michael well enough to not push his partner into talking until he was ready. He just hoped it would be sooner rather than later. And that Dalton wasn’t fucking with Michael’s head.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The ride back to the hotel was silent, Michael behind the wheel, seemingly concentrating on his driving, but Damien knew from his expression he was still going over his conversation with Dalton. Whatever they’d talked about was clearly affecting him.

Damien spent most of the trip dozing. He hadn’t realized how tired he was until he sat back in the passenger seat, the rhythmic sound of the tires against the pavement nearly lulling him to sleep.

“Damien…we’re here.”

Damien opened his dry eyes at Michael’s voice and his hand on his arm. He sat up straight, blinking, as Michael turned off the car and got out. Once again Damien followed his partner in silence up to one of their three adjoining rooms.

They headed for the bathroom in unison, stripping off their dusty, stained clothes and leaving them in a pile just outside the door. They stepped inside the large shower together and Damien had the warm water flowing a minute later. He sighed deeply as he moved under the spray, letting it wash away the dirt and stress of the day, but not the lingering thought that once again he came close to losing the man in front of him. He wrapped his hand loosely around Michael’s wrist and drew his partner closer, under the water with him. He visibly saw Michael relax, pushing away his troubled thoughts as he ran his hands slowly up Damien’s body, sending a pleasant shiver up his spine.

“Is it ‘later’?” Damien murmured.

He saw heat flash in Michael’s eyes as his partner nodded slowly. “It’s later,” he breathed right before he finally claimed Damien’s mouth for a long-delayed kiss.

Damien made a noise in the back of his throat as he parted his lips, his tongue dancing against Michael’s as he pulled his partner’s body flush against his own. Hands roamed over slick, wet skin as the kiss went on, arousal growing slowly and steadily until they were both hard, their cocks pressing together between them.

Damien broke the kiss as one of Michael’s long, wet fingers slipped down between his ass, rubbing against the puckered muscle.

“Need you…”

“Need you…”

Their soft pleas mingled in the steam as they moved back together for one more long kiss before they parted. Michael opened the shower door and stepped out as Damien shut off the water and joined him in the bathroom. They swiped towels briefly over each other’s wet bodies as they walked and kissed, their skin still damp when they reached the bed and tumbled down onto it.

Michael rolled Damien under him and Damien welcomed the heavy weight, his hands flexing against his partner’s broad back as their mouths parted, only to come back together again and again. Reassuring one another again and again that they were still here, together, that they’d cheated death one more time.

Their bodies rocked together, hard cocks sliding against one another’s while their soft, panting breaths filled the quiet room. Damien hooked a leg around Michael’s, wrapping his arms more fully around his back, trying to get his partner impossibly closer. Being with Michael like this still felt like a gift, each and every time. It was still hard for Damien to comprehend that Michael had come so fully into he and Liam’s lives. But he would be forever grateful that he had.

Damien made a quiet noise into the kiss, at the delicious friction of his cock trapped between their bodies, rubbing against Michael’s own and his partner’s abs. He could feel them both leaking, sticky wetness between them in anticipation of what was to come. Michael echoed the noise and pulled back from the kiss, raising up just enough to get his hand down between their legs to take them both in hand.

Damien’s groan was louder this time as Michael squeezed their cocks together in his palm and began stroking them both. He throbbed in Michael’s grasp, releasing another stream of precome, trying to thrust up.

“Feels good…” he breathed, feeling the arousal building, wanting Michael inside him. “More…”

Michael stroked them quickly once, twice more before releasing them and capturing Damien’s mouth again. Damien hummed into the kiss as Michael made short pumping motions with his hips, his cock rock hard against Damien’s own. Heat bloomed low in Damien’s belly, needing that cock deep within him. Now.

“_Mike_…” he pleaded, his hands drifting down toward Michael’s ass.

Michael nodded, his hazel eyes dark. “Need you…” he whispered again.

They shifted then, Michael reaching for the drawer in the bedside table as Damien spread his legs and bent them at the knee, fitting Michael between them. His partner sat back on his heels, his cock jutting out proudly, the red, swollen head peeking out of the foreskin. He started to slick his fingers but Damien shook his head.

“Don’t need it, don’t want to wait…just want you in me.”

Michael didn’t argue, switching to slick up his cock instead, telegraphing his own desire. A moment later he was leaning over Damien, one hand braced beside him, the other guiding his cock to Damien’s entrance. They locked gazes for a heartbeat, Michael’s eyes wide with both desire and tenderness, a reflection of Damien’s own. And then Damien’s eyes squeezed closed, his head pressing back into the pillow as just the head of Michael’s cock breached him.

Damien sucked in a sharp breath, relishing the first, quick burn of initial penetration as Michael filled him, his body opening as his partner pushed inside him inch by slow inch until Damien had taken in all of Michael’s thick length. They paused for just a moment, their breathing shallow. Damien reached up and cupped the side of Michael’s face, his thumb brushing against his cheekbone. A soft smile lifted the corners of Michael’s mouth before he dipped his head down. The kiss was long and slow, their tongues sliding sensuously against each other’s until the urge to move became too great for Damien, his body shifting restlessly beneath his partner’s.

Michael responded, rolling his hips backward slowly, sliding his length nearly all the way out of Damien, drawing low moans from them both as they broke the kiss. Michael pushed back in with one, long, smooth thrust and Damien’s back arched as their bodies fell into the ages-old rhythm.

They kissed as they moved together, mouths meeting and parting over and over, Damien’s hands wandering over Michael’s back and down over the swell of his ass, reveling in the feeling of being surrounded by the heat of his partner’s hard, strong body and soft, smooth skin.

Michael drew out their pleasure, driving their arousal higher and higher as his cock pressed deeper and deeper inside Damien until he found the hidden spot that made Damien gasp and shake.

“Mike…_Mike_…” he panted harshly, his hands now clutching at his partner’s back as he felt himself suddenly hurtling toward the finish line, toward blessed release. But he wanted to cross it with Michael.

Michael snapped his hips, his cock thrusting hard and fast and Damien cried out, his body straining against Michael’s now.

“Oh _fuck_, I need to…” Damien ground out, his back arching, unable to hold out much longer.

“Yeah, want you to,” Michael encouraged, voice low and rough, sending a shiver through Damien. “Love watching you fall apart.”

“Come with me, Mike…come with me…” Damien pleaded, a split second before he crossed that line, his orgasm racing through him. He shouted out Michael’s name as he came, as his cock pulsed between them, painting his stomach and chest with the thick, white streams of his release.

And Michael was right there with him with his own sharp cry of completion, his cock swelling inside Damien, filling him with slick, wet heat as he collapsed down on top of him. They held one another close for long minutes until the shaking stopped, still intimately connected. They kissed languidly as their breathing slowed, until Michael slipped from Damien’s body. Damien made a soft noise of loss, feeling empty, as they eased back from the kiss.

Michael shifted, settling next to Damien, lying on his side. His hazel eyes were clear as he brushed a hand over Damien’s chest. “I needed that,” he said quietly.

Damien ran a hand up Michael’s arm. “_We_ needed that.”

Michael nodded slowly as Damien used a corner of the bedsheet to clean himself up, then Michael laid his head in the crook of Damien’s shoulder, draping an arm over Damien’s chest, his fingers tracing over the large tattoo on Damien’s side. The events of the long day caught up with Damien, his limbs and eyelids growing heavy. But just as he felt himself starting to drift off, Michael spoke.

“You wanted to know what Dalton and I were talking about.”

Damien shook his head. “You don’t need to tell me—” he began, wanting to respect Michael’s privacy.

“I want to,” Michael interrupted him, then paused for a moment. “I told her that Hanson was still in the forefront of my mind and that I might make a mistake because of that.”

Damien grimaced and he was glad Michael couldn’t see him. He wished Michael had kept that to himself. They were handling it. The last thing they needed was Dalton scrutinizing Michael’s every move. But Michael was a more by-the-book soldier than Damien would ever be, believing his commanding officer always needed to be kept informed.

“What did she say?” he asked.

“That she’s never read my psych report,” Michael replied. “And hasn’t doubted her decision to not read it. Because…I make all of you better soldiers.”

Damien’s eyes widened. He’d never thought Dalton capable of being anything other than a stone cold bitch. But to say that to Michael… His opinion of her grudgingly rose a notch.

Michael lifted his head to look at Damien. “She caught me so off-guard that I didn’t even know what to say to that.”

“She’s right, you know,” Damien told him softly. “You’ve certainly made me a hell of a better soldier. You picked me up out of the gutter, helped give me a purpose again. Which is why I vouched for you, even though I know you lied your way through that eval. Didn’t you?” he asked gently.

Michael glanced away, all the answer Damien needed.

“It doesn’t matter,” he told Michael, and his partner looked back at him. “Because this unit needs you. _I _need you,” he emphasized. “We’re going to see this through to the end. Until Hanson’s in the ground and your conscious is clear. And we’re going to do it together.”

Damien watched the play of emotions cross Michael’s face and his chest clenched as Michael swallowed hard and roughly whispered his reply.

“Together.”


	16. Chapter 16

Michael’s blood roared through his veins, the sound pounding in his ears, adrenaline spiking, flooding his body as he ran.

After Craig Hanson.

He nearly couldn’t believe his eyes when the door opened and Hanson suddenly appeared. It brought him up short for a split second. All the time Hanson needed to flee and put distance between himself and Michael.

That Michael was rapidly closing.

His boots slapped against the pavement that then turned to dirt as Hanson led them to the outskirts of the city. Michael tried his comms again, shouting for Damien to answer, to let him know where he was, what was happening. But silence was his only reply. Michael had heard the explosion on the other side of the building. It was painfully obvious something had gone wrong in their attempt to locate Christian Lucas and apprehend Knox, and his thoughts couldn’t help but turn dark, worried his partner was wounded, or worse, which is why he wasn’t responding.

But he had no choice than to push aside his concern and concentrate on Hanson. He would not be escaping. Not this time. Michael was going to finally end this. Here and now.

Hanson pushed through a local church group, knocking men and women down as he continued to try and outpace Michael. But Michael remained on his heels, right behind him as Hanson led them up a steep hill, where Michael finally had a chance to raise his weapon and put Hanson at the other end of the barrel.

“Hanson!” Michael yelled out as the other man came to a stop. “Don’t you fucking move!”

“I’m not going anywhere, Michael,” Hanson calmly replied, his hands in the air. He cocked his head as Michael raised his weapon higher. “Do it,” he taunted Michael. “Do it!”

Michael’s jaw clenched, fury burning through him, and his finger tightened on the trigger as images of Kerry’s death, her _murder_, replayed themselves in his mind. Blood, so much blood…her lifeless body in his arms…

“You know you want to, Michael!”

And he did. Oh fuck, he did. He wanted to see Hanson’s blood spilled out on the ground just like Kerry’s had been. So why the hesitation? Why didn’t he pull the trigger the moment he got to the top of the hill? Why was Hanson already coming to a stop at the top of the hill before Michael even shouted at him? Was he that confident that Michael didn’t have it in him to execute him?

Before Michael could form any answers a police helicopter rose up out of nowhere to his right, commanding him over the loudspeaker to drop his weapon. Michael risked a glance, saw the sniper with his rifle pointed directly at him. Again they commanded him to drop his weapon or they would shoot.

“_Do it!_” Hanson yelled again.

Michael’s jaw clenched once more, ignoring the police commands, his weapon still pointed at Hanson as déjà vu washed over him.

_Give the signal, El Soldat dies. And so do I._

_Pull the trigger, Hanson dies. And so do I._

Back then he’d given the signal, just wanting the pain to end.

But now… His thoughts turned to Damien and Liam. At the life they were building together. And Kerry… Hanson was clearly unarmed. Would she want him turning into a cold-blooded killer, just like Hanson, if he pulled the trigger? Not to mention sacrificing himself.

As more police arrived, Michael made his decision. He had too much to lose now to give Hanson the satisfaction of ripping it all away from him. He wouldn’t become what Hanson had turned into. And there was no escaping for him this time. Kerry’s killer would be brought to justice. It was finally over. And possibly, maybe, he could be “coerced” into giving up information on Knox’s whereabouts.

Hanson’s expression was smug, believing he’d won, as Michael raised his hands, surrendering to the police. But Michael knew it was _himself_ that had come out the winner in all of this, by not giving in to the pain, by making Liam and Damien proud.

Michael allowed himself to be handcuffed and put inside the back of one of the squad cars alongside Hanson.

“You should have shot me, Michael,” Hanson continued to taunt him. “You had your chance.”

Michael glanced away, his skin crawling being this close to Hanson, trying hard not to second-guess himself.

“Don’t kid yourself you’re any different from me,” Hanson continued. “You’re just a killer with a ‘get out of jail free’ card.”

Michael couldn’t deny there was a glimmer of truth in Hanson’s words as one of the police officers returned and got him out of the car, releasing him and giving him back his sidearm.

“See what I mean?” Hanson shrugged.

There _was_ a huge difference between him and Hanson, though. Yes, Michael had killed. Too many times for him to count. But he wasn’t proud of it, like Hanson. And he wasn’t an assassin, like Hanson. Michael killed in order to protect. Something he was now believing Hanson had never understood when he was a soldier himself.

Just before the police took Hanson away, he threw a triumphant smirk at Michael, still confident he was the winner in all of this.

“Michael. Promise you’ll never forgive me.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed, his jaw muscle jumping at Hanson’s parting shot, for in that Hanson _was_ the winner. He would never receive his forgiveness. Of that Michael was absolutely certain.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Damien’s ears were still ringing from the concussion blast after the explosion in the elevator as he threw himself into the car and fired up the engine. He grit his teeth at the image of so many innocent South African special forces men who lay dead in the underground parking garage and out on the street.

Fucking Christy Bryant.

She had sold out Christian Lucas and now Knox had him. She was directly responsible for the carnage that had just occurred.

And she was going to pay for her actions. Damien was going to make sure of that. Not just for today, but for all those years ago as well. Michael was chasing his demons on this mission and now so was Damien. The only difference was…he knew exactly where his demon was.

He pulled out his phone and called up the location of the tracker that Liam had planted on Christy’s car, saw the blinking dot. He threw the car into gear and tore off down the street.

“Got you, Christy.”

His thoughts turned to his partner as he drove. He knew Michael had been on the other side of the building when the explosion happened, so he wasn’t worried he’d been caught in the blast. But he also wasn’t answering his comms, and that’s what concerned Damien. When he and Michael split up it never went well.

“Where are you, Michael?” he muttered as he arrived in front of the apartment where Christy’s car was parked.

Coming to a stop behind the vehicle, he had to force his thoughts away from his partner and concentrate on his personal mission. He scaled up the outside of the building to the second floor balcony of Christy’s apartment, opened the doors and crept inside, his weapon raised, his heart beating fast.

He found her hastily throwing clothes into a duffle bag, her back to him. The creak of a floorboard gave him away though and she froze for an instant before raising her hands and slowly turning around toward him. His blood boiled as he stared at her down the barrel of his gun. So much death surrounded her. Surrounded _them_.

“You told Knox that we turned the lawyer.” His low voice wasn’t a question.

“So you’re going to shoot me?” Christy said.

“That’s what I do. I’m a cold-blooded killer. Remember?” Damien replied harshly, a flash of a child’s face suddenly appearing in the forefront of his mind and he pushed it away before it could overtake him.

Christy shook her head. “Damien, killing me isn’t going to erase your past. You know that. It’s not going to make anything better.”

She turned away from him, back to her bag, and Damien lowered his weapon as her words sunk in. Because she was right. As much as he wanted to see her dead on the floor, spilling more blood would do nothing to ease his conscience. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of becoming the assassin she always believed he was. _Still_ believed he was.

In a split second she whirled back around, gun in her hand, and Damien cursed himself for once again letting her get to him, for dropping his guard around her.

“Fuck!” he swore, raising his weapon once more, the two of them now caught in a Mexican standoff.

“So now what?” Christy said. “We gonna put a bullet in each other?”

“Maybe that’s how things are supposed to end between us, Christy,” he replied, resignation in his tone. As long as he could take her out before his own death, that’s all he wanted.

She must have heard his unspoken willingness to die, and to take her with him, in his voice, for she suddenly switched gears and offered to help Section 20 take down Knox when he met with the Nigerians. Was she lying, just trying to save her own skin, or was she telling the truth? Every instinct Damien had was screaming at him that she couldn’t be trusted, but he knew he had no choice but to take her offer on the slim chance she really would lead them to Knox.

Things moved at lightning speed after that. They both caught sight of the SA special forces soldiers preparing to make entry and Damien sprang into action. In a matter of minutes he and Christy had taken them all down with non-lethal force and escaped out the front door. They immediately headed around the back of the building toward a wooded area, Damien hoping that they’d encounter no other resistance. So focused on escaping, he was caught off-guard when he heard Michael’s voice behind him, shouting at Christy to stop.

Damien spun in his tracks, greatly relieved to see that his partner was in one piece—until he saw the gun in Michael’s hand, pointed at Christy.

“Mike! No! No…” Damien lowered his own gun and raised his other hand, palm out, toward his partner, trying to calm him down.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” Michael demanded.

“Put that gun down, Michael,” Damien said evenly, stepping closer to his confused partner, until he was blocking Michael’s shot.

“You’re smuggling out a target, Scott.”

“Put that gun down, please,” Damien pleaded, his hand still out. “Don’t shoot her.”

“I just let the man who shot my wife ride away in the back of a police car. Now I could have killed him, but I chose the mission,” Michael said, his voice strained.

Damien’s eyes widened. That’s where Michael had been? Chasing Hanson? And _capturing_ him? He wanted to know more, but unfortunately now was not the time.

“This _is_ about the mission,” he tried to reassure Michael, wishing he had the time to fully explain. “Please. You gotta trust me on this. Don’t shoot her.” He took another step, close enough to nearly touch his partner. “Mike…”

Michael shifted his gaze to Christy, his gun still raised, finger tightening ever so slightly on the trigger.

“Mike…” Damien said quietly. “Please…”

Damien knew that Michael knew that he didn’t always think straight when it came to Christy Bryant. But something in his voice must have convinced Michael that this time Damien knew what he was doing. And that he trusted him.

“Go,” Michael said. “Go.”

Damien nodded, exhaling sharply. “Thanks.”

And with one last, grateful look at his partner, Damien ran.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ten minutes later Damien lit up a cigarette inside the car he’d regrettably had to carjack so that he and Christy could complete their escape. He’d pulled off someplace secluded so that he could get more information out of her before taking it to Dalton. He listened to her, outwardly calm and expressionless, all while seething inside as she justified tipping off Knox that Lucas was working for Twenty so that she could keep his trust. Then she was supposedly going to then turn on him and call in the CIA. But when she called it a game? He snapped.

“Don’t call it a fucking game!” he rounded on her. “It’s not a game when innocent people get killed,” he growled, voice breaking as an image of a car in flames threatened to overwhelm him. “I told you that seven years ago.” He looked away and shook his head, disgusted. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“What we were doing then was important work,” she countered.

He jerked his head back toward her, anger flaring. “No, Christy, what was important was that you faced up to what we’d done!” He swallowed. “To what we’d become. A couple of killers fucking each other between marks!” He looked away from her again, bile rising in the back of his throat as memories cascaded through him. He’d tried so hard to put his past behind him, but no matter how hard he ran it always caught up with him.

“You and I were more than that,” Christy replied.

Damien shook his head again, refusing to rise to the bait. “No, we weren’t. You made that quite clear. I told you I was done, after what happened. I gave you a choice.” Now he turned back to her. “Me or the next job. You made your fucking choice.” He could hear the conversation in his head like it happened only yesterday, disgusted with himself all over again for letting her manipulate him so completely. To make him believe she loved him. But it wasn’t him she loved. It was the killing.

“You know how I feel about you,” she tried, but this time there was no mistaking the lie spilling from her lips. He would never again let himself be swayed by her false emotions. Not when he knew what true emotion sounded and felt like—because of what he had with Michael and Liam.

He shook his head, calling her out. “Bullshit, Christy.” He paused, then decided to test her. “If you feel anything for me, Christy, then you’ll do this one thing for me.”

She regarded him steadily for a long moment before looking away, silent. And Damien had his answer.

~*~*~*~*~*~

After letting Christy go, Damien made his way back to the crib, where he outlined his plan to Dalton and Michael. Dalton, needless to say, wasn’t happy with his rogue actions. But what else was new?

“What did you want me to do, bring her back here?” he shot back. “She wouldn’t have told us a fucking thing.”

Dalton regarded him intently for a long moment and Damien fought not to squirm.

“You went there to kill her, didn’t you?” Dalton finally said and Michael shifted uncomfortably next to him.

Caught out, Damien took a beat, gathering his thoughts. It was time. He needed to come clean about his past. But this wasn’t the way he wanted to admit to the horrible things he’d done. He was loathe to show any weakness, any vulnerability in front of Dalton. But Christy had forced his hand.

“We all know I worked contracts for Christy,” he began. “I made sure I read every file on my targets, cover to cover.” He paused, swallowing hard as the painful memories began to rise to the surface. “Except on my last contract for her the file neglected to mention that my target, a corrupt American businessman, dealing with FARC, was driving his son Daniel to school that day.”

He had to stop again as it became increasingly difficult to speak, his throat threatening to close up, moisture pricking at the backs of his eyes.

“Quito, Ecuador,” he forced out, head down, unable to look at Dalton or Michael. “July 14, 2005. That was the day I blew up a kid for the stars and stripes.”

Shame and disgust and anger rolled through him in waves as he raised his head, pinning Dalton with his hard gaze as the first tear broke free. “So yeah, I wanted to kill her. And she offered us a shot at Knox.”

Heavy silence filled the briefing room as his words, his admission of guilt, sunk in.

Dalton straightened up, her posture relaxing, looking at him with something akin to compassion. “Well, you didn’t know the CIA had cut her loose,” she said. “She’s on the run from her own side. She’ll only be watching her own back.”

Damien gave a terse nod. “She does that.” He glanced from Dalton to Michael. “I know it’s a long shot…”

“But it’s all we got, mate.” Michael’s voice was soft with understanding, clearly moved by Damien’s story, and it twisted Damien’s chest.

“Yeah,” Damien choked out.

Michael nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

Dalton gave them both one last look then took her leave. As she opened, then closed the door behind her, Damien caught a glimpse of Liam, looking up at him curiously.

Damien swiped roughly at the tears on his face as Michael reached out for him.

“Damien…”

But Damien shied away from the touch, shoving himself to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor. He was too raw, too exposed. He couldn’t do this…

“I need a minute,” he said roughly, not looking at Michael as he shoved open the door and strode out of the room. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Liam take a step toward him but then stop as Damien didn’t acknowledge him.

His emotions threatening to boil over, Damien didn’t stop walking until he found himself alone in the furthest corner of the locker room. He practically threw himself into one of the lockers, the bottom of his fists slamming into the metal, his forehead banging down against it. A choked-off noise escaped his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut, another tear breaking free as he gave in to the nightmare, replayed the car exploding in a ball of fire over and over in his mind.

He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, paying his penance, until Michael’s soft voice broke through the memories.

“Damien…”

Damien swallowed, slowly straightening up and turning around. He couldn’t hide from this any longer. Lifting his gaze, he saw Liam standing next to Michael, and from the look on his face, Damien knew Michael had told him.

“I saw it all, you know,” Damien started, voice gruff, finding it hard to meet Liam and Michael’s eyes. “If I didn’t pull the trigger myself I always stuck around to make sure my target was eliminated.”

Liam took a step forward, his expression one of sorrow but Damien held up his hand. He needed to get through this.

“I watched through my binoculars as Daniel ran out of the house ahead of his father. Laughing, smiling. Watched as he climbed in the back seat.” Damien’s stomach churned, his words thick. “There was nothing I could do to stop it. So I watched as the car bomb I planted killed a little boy.”

Michael’s eyes closed, his mouth tight while Liam slowly shook his head, his blue eyes an expression of horror.

Damien cleared his throat. “Now you know why I never told you that I worked for the CIA. And I sure as hell didn’t want you to find out like this.” He blew out a breath. “Fuck, I _never_ wanted you to find out.”

Damien had finally found happiness with the two men in front of him. And now his dark and shameful past threatened to put that happiness in jeopardy. He wouldn’t blame Michael or Liam if they walked away, now that they knew the monster that he was. He deserved no less than to lose them for deceiving them and his heart clenched, already feeling the loss.

“You didn’t need to hide that from us,” Liam told him quietly, without a hint of judgement in his voice.

“Because you’re not that man anymore,” Michael added, stepping closer, as did Liam. “You’ve proved that again and again. You need to put that demon to rest.”

Damien’s mouth opened in surprise, his throat tightening with emotion at their unconditional acceptance. He swallowed hard and shook his head.

“I don’t know if I can,” he admitted.

“Then let us help you,” Liam whispered as he and Michael pulled him close.

Damien held on tightly, and this time when his tears fell, it wasn’t from pain and grief.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael watched his partner, walking slightly ahead of him next to Liam, as the three of them headed back into the crib. He and Liam had sat with Damien in the locker room for several minutes, giving Damien all the time he needed to pull himself out of the memories of the past until he finally took a breath, squared his shoulders and stood. He nodded at both of them, his blue eyes clear, all trace of the emotional turmoil gone from his face, and led them from the locker room.

But Michael hadn’t missed the fear in those eyes just minutes earlier. Fear that he and Liam were going to turn their backs on him and walk away. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth. He meant what he’d said. That Damien wasn’t that man anymore. He hadn’t just been placating him. He’d seen the change, the growth in his partner as a person, and a soldier, from the day they met. Trying to atone for his past sins, unbeknownst to Michael.

He couldn’t imagine carrying that burden, that pain, all these years. Damien had hinted that his past was a dark time for him, but Michael couldn’t have guessed the depths of that darkness and his heart ached for him. To be falsely dishonorably discharged, only to fall into the hands of the CIA, and Christy Bryant, and turned into an assassin—it’s no wonder Damien said Section 20 was his second chance.

The faster this mission ended, the faster Bryant was out of Damien’s life, the better.

Michael instantly knew something had happened in the few minutes the three of them had been gone. There was an air of urgency he felt the moment he stepped back into the crib. Before he could ask what was going on, Julia rushed up to them, but her focus was solely on Michael and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

“Michael… Hanson’s escaped.”

Michael’s entire body went rigid at Julia’s announcement, rage flooding through him, his fists clenching at his sides. _This couldn’t be happening. It was over…_

“_What?_” Liam hissed next to him in shock and surprise.

Through the red haze over his vision Michael spotted Dalton across the room. He advanced upon her in long strides, his finger jabbing out in front of him.

“How the _fuck_ did this happen?” he shouted at her.

Dalton stood her ground. “He overpowered the officers and killed them both.”

“Do we have any fucking idea where he is?” Damien demanded, walking up next to Michael.

Dalton shifted, hesitating. “No.”

Michael took another step closer to Dalton, practically vibrating in anger, looming over her smaller frame.

“I could have killed him,” he told her through clenched teeth. “I _wanted_ to kill him. But I put the _mission_ first and let him live. Why the fuck didn’t you send out a military escort or at least a detachment of SA special forces? You know how dangerous he is!”

Dalton ignored his pointed questions. “We will recapture him.”

Michael seethed at her response and tried to take another threatening step toward her, stopped by Damien’s firm grip on his arm.

“Not if I get to him first,” Michael ground out. “You had your chance.”

He shook off Damien’s hand, spun on his heel and stormed out of the crib and out of the building.

“Mike! Mike!”

He ignored the sound of two sets of footsteps close behind him and Damien’s voice calling out for him. He let his feet carry him to the end of the building where he turned the corner sharply and in one fluid motion, cocked back his fist and slammed it against the brick.

The pain didn’t even register against his chaotic thoughts. It was his fault. He shouldn’t have hesitated. He should have pulled the trigger. He should have gotten Kerry justice. He should have made Hanson pay.

With a shout of rage he drew back his fist for a second time but before it could connect with the brick an arm yanked him back.

“Michael! Stop!”

Michael shook his head at Liam’s shouted plea and broke free of his hold, spinning around and bending over at the waist, hands on his thighs, shoulders hunched, head hanging in defeat.

Liam stepped in close and Michael reached for him, resting his bowed head against Liam’s chest, his hands gripping his hips. He felt himself still shaking with anger, breathing hard, Kerry’s face on the backs of his eyelids. He sensed Damien stepping up beside him a moment before he felt his partner’s warm hand on his back, Liam’s fingers threading softly through his short hair. He leaned into their touch and let their unspoken support slowly calm him.

“That bitch deserved every word.”

Michael huffed out a breath, the corners of his mouth quirking. Leave it to Damien to always know the right thing to say.

Michael straightened up as Liam nodded. “The special forces commander was standing right next to her. We were watching it all on the satellite feed and she never asked for his assistance.”

Damien turned to Michael. “What went down out there, Mike?”

Michael leaned back against the brick wall and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his cargo pants. “I saw Hanson coming out of the rear door of the building right before the explosion,” he began. “I gave chase. We ended up on top of a hill right outside the city.” He paused, the scene replaying itself in his mind. “I had him. I _had_ him. And he stood there, hands up, taunting me. Daring me to shoot him.”

“But you didn’t,” Damien said. “Why?”

“Because the local police showed up in a helo. They had a sniper ready to take Michael out if he fired,” Liam answered.

Michael shook his head, jaw tight. “No. I had time before they showed up. I could have killed him. I _wanted_ to kill him.”

“What stopped you?” Damien asked quietly.

“I was asking myself the same thing when the helo arrived,” Michael replied. “Hanson stepped it up then. Knowing if I shot him it would mean my death as well.”

“You hesitated so long before surrendering I truly believed you were going to shoot him,” Liam said tightly. “I thought I was going to watch you die.”

“You must have found the answer to your question if you didn’t pull the trigger,” Damien said.

Michael nodded slowly. “I didn’t want to become what he was. Kerry wouldn’t have wanted that.” He paused, his voice heavy with emotion. “But more than that…it was the thought of never seeing the both of you again. Of giving him the satisfaction of ripping this all away from me…”

He saw the effect his words had on them, leaving no doubt in his mind that he’d made the right choice on the top of that hill. He reached for them and they pulled him close, kissing him in turn before resting their foreheads together.

“I won’t let him win,” Michael breathed.

“Neither will we,” Liam vowed.

Damien’s hand flexed on his back. “This mission isn’t over until both our demons are in the ground.”

Michael raised his head, reenergized once again to continue the fight because of the men next to him. He narrowed his eyes and set his jaw.

“Copy that.”


	17. Chapter 17

Christy Bryant’s text message came in thirty minutes later. They had the location of the hotel where Knox was meeting with the Nigerians.

_A fat lot of good that did_ Liam thought in disgust as he threw his gear down on the floor in the crib and sat down heavily in his chair. All around him his teammates expressions and body language spoke clearly of their failure. Not only had Knox and Matlock escaped unharmed, but so did the Nigerians during the chaotic gun battle.

As Dalton tried to downplay the clusterfuck of the last hour, Liam ground his teeth together. He’d laid eyes on Knox but had been unable to take him out. While Michael had Hanson and Damien had Christy Bryant, Conrad Knox was Liam’s demon. He was determined to bring the man that ordered Sinclair’s murder to justice. Or put him in the ground. Liam was leaning toward the latter.

He was pulled out of his musings by none other than Knox’s voice, coming over the tap they’d put in place on his daughter Ava’s phone. Liam’s pulse leapt as the call continued long enough for him to get an exact location on where Knox was calling from. He automatically reached for his discarded gear and rifle, but Dalton decided to take only Damien and Michael.

Liam snagged Damien’s arm as he started to walk past him. “Get this bastard,” he said in a low voice.

Damien gazed back at him steadily and nodded. “Roger that.”

Liam clenched and unclenched his fists as he watched Damien, Michael and Dalton walk out of the crib. Frustrated, he stripped his heavy tactical vest off and dropped it on the table near his desk before raking a hand through his short hair and taking a seat behind his computer. He blew out a long breath, frowning at being left behind.

“Got a taste for it now, eh?”

Liam turned at Julia’s question. “What’s that?”

“Field work,” she replied. “You’ve got a real knack for it.”

It hit Liam then how much he’d changed from just a few short weeks ago when this mission started. How easy it was for him now to switch seamlessly between desk-bound communications specialist to rifle-bearing soldier. He wondered if this new side of him would hold after this mission ended. It was vengeance for Sinclair driving him right now. When that goal was accomplished—when, not if—would he be as eager to put himself in the line of fire in the future?

He looked away from Julia with a nod as his thoughts turned inward, heavy with introspection on what choices may lay ahead of him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The news from Damien, when it came, was disappointing.

_“Knox had already cleared out by the time we got here,”_ he told Liam and Julia over comms.

“Shit,” Liam muttered, his jaw tightening.

_“We did find Matlock, though.”_

Liam’s eyebrows rose and he exchanged a look with Julia. “You bringing him back here to the crib?”

He heard Damien give a rueful chuckle. _“Yeah, in a body bag.”_

Julia’s brow furrowed. “He’s dead? How?”

_“Shot in the back,”_ Damien replied. _“Apparently there’s no honor among thieves. Go figure.”_

Liam had a hard time believing it had been Knox to pull the trigger. He kept his hands clean. He had others to do his dirty work. Others like…

“Was it Hanson, do you think?” he asked Damien.

Damien blew out a breath. _“I think that’s a safe bet. I think he was proving to Knox who the top dog is.”_

“Any leads at all as to where Knox might be now?” Julia inquired.

_“Possibly. He did leave some stuff behind. Michael and Dalton are collecting everything. We’ll need your help going through it all when we get back.”_

“Copy that,” Liam said, eager to get started.

He needed to put the field soldier aside for a bit longer. If a computer was what it took to finally run Knox to ground then Liam was going to be the one pushing the keys.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“So we’ve got Siamese bombs?”

Michael fought the urge to roll his eyes. Leave it to Damien to once again come up with the smartass reply. But he was right. Michael had come up against some truly dangerous, deadly situations in his years with Section 20. Hell, he’d caught a bomb in his arms as it fell from a hotel ceiling. But disarming not one but _two_ nuclear warheads? And at the _same time_? The odds of succeeding were overwhelmingly against them. But then again… He looked at his partner. He and Damien working together were pretty damn unstoppable.

He straightened up and looked at Damien. “If we deactivate this one without doing the other one at exactly the same time it’ll detonate.”

Damien took a beat, digesting Michael’s information, then gave a terse nod. “I’m going to head back to that first one. Give me exactly five minutes.”

Michael gave his own nod in reply. “Right.”

“So Mike…on zero we both pull those triggers.”

Michael wanted to laugh that Damien was finally giving in to the proper way of doing a countdown, but his partner was staring at him so seriously that he decided against it. He would give him shit about it later. Because there _would_ be a later.

“It has to be at _exactly_ the same time,” he confirmed.

“I know,” Damien replied.

They both paused then and Michael could feel the crushing weight of the impossible situation they found themselves in settling on his shoulders and in his chest. Damien’s blue eyes were full of the same realization. There was so much Michael wanted to say. But he resolutely forced the words down. He would not turn this into a goodbye. Because he refused to believe this would be the last time he ever saw Damien. But still, there was no disguising the deeper emotion in his next simple words.

“Good luck.”

He could see it so clearly written on his partner’s face, his refusal too, to admit the possibility that this could be their last moment together. But he heard the same emotion in his simple reply.

“You too, bud.”

Michael forced his gaze away from his partner as they both looked down at their watches and simultaneously started the five minute timers. And then Damien was gone, hurrying quickly from the room, Michael using his flashlight to watch him until he disappeared out the doorway. Michael drew in a long breath and turned his thoughts from his partner and back to the situation at hand. Not only the bomb, but where the hell was Hanson? He had deliberately lured them down here to the tunnels, yet there was no sign of him. Had he fled the city, away from the blast radius, confident in the fact that Michael would not survive and he’d gotten his revenge? He hadn’t thought that Hanson would take the coward’s way out, preferring to take Michael out up close and personal instead.

Michael shook his head. He couldn’t spare Hanson another thought. He needed to concentrate on diffusing this warhead. A precious minute had already elapsed. He reached out and carefully removed the outer covering, exposing the spherical trigger itself.

“Shit,” Michael muttered, just as the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

He had a split second to process the sound of a board creaking behind him and a shadow falling over him before Hanson attacked. Michael tried to turn to face him, but Hanson was faster, striking out and knocking the gun from Michael’s hand before slamming a fist into Michael’s temple and giving him a sharp kick to his chest, driving him to his knees.

Michael gasped out a painful breath, wrapping an arm around his ribs as blood dripped into his eye, cursing himself for letting his guard down for even a moment. His jaw clenched as he looked up at Hanson, who was holding his own gun on Michael.

“Why Kerry? Why not me?” Michael demanded. “I was standing right there.”

Hanson shook his head, his cold eyes boring into Michael. “Not enough. You needed to know how it feels.” His grip tightened on the gun, his voice full of hatred. “You took away my brother, the only thing I gave a shit about.”

Jake’s face flashed in front of Michael, regret flooding through him once again. “Jake was a good kid. And I should have done something but I didn’t,” he admitted, swallowing down his failure. “Jake shouldn’t have been there. He wasn’t like you and me.”

“Why would _anyone_ really want to be anything like you and me?” Hanson scoffed. “Everything we’ve done… I mean, fuck this for a game of soldiers, Michael. Look at us.” Hanson paused, his voice flat and hollow. “There is death in everything we touch. Everything. And Jake paid the price.”

But not just Jake. The truth in Hanson’s words gutted Michael to the core as Kerry now appeared in his mind, the moment the bullet struck her, blood flowing thick and red over his fingers as she collapsed against him. Died in his arms. Guilt, pain and grief struck like a knife to his heart. His fault. She was dead because of him. And he would never forgive himself.

Hanson’s finger twitched on the trigger and Michael knew he had seconds to live. Thoughts of Liam and Damien gave him strength as he faced his own death. He knew any type of action on his part would be futile, but he would not go down without a fight.

The sudden, unexpected cacophony of automatic gunfire in the tunnels distracted Hanson and he jerked his head toward the doorway, giving Michael the opening he needed. He sprang up from his knees and charged full force into Hanson. They grappled as they fell heavily onto the floor, tumbling down the stairs, Hanson’s gun slipping from his grip and skittering away in the process.

The hand-to-hand fight was furious and violent, punches and kicks falling at a rapid pace, Michael’s heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline rushing through his veins. Hanson was a formidable opponent, just as highly trained as Michael, and it showed as each tried and failed to gain the upper hand. Blows rained down upon Michael as he pressed forward, ignoring the pain as he forced Hanson backward until his foe stumbled and fell back against the stairs. Michael was on him instantly, pummeling Hanson’s face, fury fueling his every movement, every blow.

It had all come down to this. One-on-one. As it should be. And it was finally going to end. Right here, right now.

Michael would have his vengeance. Kerry would get her justice.

Hanson suddenly reached out and dragged Michael down against him, pulling Michael off balance, biting at Michael’s ear. Michael yelled out, trying to push Hanson back as Hanson got a knee up and shoved Michael up and off, sending Michael skidding and sprawling onto his back. Hanson stood and climbed to the top of the stairs, standing next to the warhead.

“What the fuck is it going to take, Michael?” he spat, blood flowing from his mouth. “Come on, Stonebridge,” he sneered, taking a step closer to the bomb.

Michael scrambled on the floor, trying to get his feet under him as he realized in horror that Hanson was reaching for the trigger. If he pulled it before Damien removed his…

Michael’s arm swept out as he started to push himself up and it knocked against something metallic. Hanson’s fallen gun. The weapon was in Michael’s hand an instant later.

“Hanson, no!”

But Hanson ignored Michael’s shouted warning, his hand nearly on the trigger now…

The gun bucked in Michael’s hand once, twice…five times. Hanson’s body jerked with each impact, bright red blood arcing out in streams as the bullets tore through him.

Michael shoved himself to his feet and was up the stairs in three long strides, catching Hanson before he could hit the floor. He put his mouth next to Hanson’s ear as the other man gasped out his dying breaths.

“I want you to know. I forgive you.”

Michael took deep satisfaction in the look of resignation and defeat on Hanson’s face as he died, as Michael claimed his ultimate revenge by doing the one thing that Hanson asked him not to.

Michael lowered Hanson’s bloody, bullet-riddled body to the floor, taking a long, shuddering breath as he straightened up and gazed down at the man who had ripped Kerry from him and set him on this path of near self-destruction to avenge his wife’s murder.

It was finally over.

~*~*~*~*~*~

_“Good luck.”_

Michael’s words echoed in Damien’s head as he raced down the tunnel, back toward the first bomb. He had wasted precious time dealing with and taking out the Nigerians. Too much time. Especially when he only had five minutes to begin with. Five minutes to stop a nuclear catastrophe. No fucking pressure.

Damien had to admit that when Michael said they needed to disarm both bombs at the same time, he was sure they’d finally bitten off more than they could chew. I mean, Michael had already snatched a falling bomb out of midair. How much further could they push their luck? And when he stood there across from his partner there was so much he wanted to say. _Needed_ to say. Just in case. But there wasn’t time. Which was probably a good thing. Because saying it out loud would have made it real. Made it a goodbye.

Always in tune with one another, Damien had seen the exact thoughts written all over Michael’s face, in his eyes.

_“Good luck.”_

_“You too, bud.”_

Simple words, but with a much deeper meaning. And Damien vowed they wouldn’t be the last they ever said to one another.

His pulse pounded in his ears, his mouth dry as he reached his destination, hurriedly pocketing his flashlight and holstering his weapon while anxiously looking at his watch. Five seconds.

“You’d better fucking go on zero,” he muttered, his hand curling around the trigger.

Four seconds…three…two…one…

Multiple gunshots shattered the stillness around him, echoing off the walls of the tunnel. Startled, Damien jerked his hand away from the trigger, whirling toward the doorway, his weapon in his hand once again.

“What the fuck?”

Every muscle tense, his pulse spiking once again, he moved quickly toward the doorway. “Mike!”

No reply. He glanced down at his watch. The counter was at zero.

“What the fuck is going on?” he shouted, his voice reverberating down the tunnel.

Silence.

Something was wrong. It was obvious Michael hadn’t pulled his trigger or Damien’s bomb would have exploded and he’d be dead. Was it Michael who fired the shots? Or was his partner dead? Either way, Damien needed to find out. Taking a breath, he pulled out his flashlight and started off down the tunnel at a swift pace.

He was trying to force thoughts of finding Michael’s body out of his mind when the sound of metal banging on metal caught his attention. Because it wasn’t erratic. There was a purposeful rhythm to it. And it was coming from up ahead of him. _Michael?_ He stopped short as the sound ceased, then started back up again. But a shorter rhythm this time.

“Four,” he said out loud to himself as realization dawned. “New fucking countdown, Michael?”

The banging started again. “Three…” He turned and started running back toward his bomb. “Reading you loud and clear, bud!”

He burst back inside the large room and raced over to the warhead as the banging continued. “Two…” He grasped the trigger in his hand. “One…” It was now or never. “Go on zero.”

With a lurch of his heart in his chest, he yanked the trigger free, half expecting to be blown to pieces. But there was no blinding, deafening explosion. Just the sound of his own harsh breathing.

He barked out a laugh. “Fuck me.”

They did it. Against all odds, they’d saved the world. Again.

Damien tossed the trigger in the air and caught it easily, then slipped it into his pants pocket. No way in hell was that thing ever leaving his sight again. He’d had enough of nuclear weapons to last a lifetime.

His jaw tightened as he jogged toward the door and down the tunnel. The bombs may be taken care of, but Knox was still out there. But right now his first priority was to get to Michael, to make sure he was okay, to find out what caused the aborted first countdown.

His eyes widened as soon as he caught sight of his partner, stepping out into the tunnel, Julia at his side. Michael was definitely not okay. The entire right side of his face and head was covered in blood, as well as his hands and the front of his shirt. It looked like he’d gone ten rounds in the boxing ring.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asked as he came to a stop beside Michael. “What were those gunshots?”

Michael’s eyes were vacant, his words hollow. “Hanson. He’s dead.”

Damien blinked as Michael walked away without another word. “Shit,” he breathed, catching Julia’s eye, thinking perhaps she could shed more light on what went down, if she was in there with Michael. But she simply compressed her lips together and gave a single shake of her head. There was no mistaking the concern in her eyes, though, before she turned and followed after Michael.

Damien paused just long enough in the doorway to look inside and see Hanson’s body splayed out on the floor. “Fuck,” he muttered. Bastard finally got what was coming to him. But he could already tell by Michael’s detached response to his questions that the fallout from Hanson’s death was going to take a toll on his partner.

And he’d be there to pick up the pieces when it did.


	18. Chapter 18

Damien extended his arm and placed his palm flat against the cool glass of the hotel room window as twilight began to fall. He bowed his head, staring down at the streets below, exhaling long and slow as he finally let his body start to decompress. This had been one of the longest days of his life. But in the end Knox was dead. Hanson was dead. Both nuclear triggers had been recovered. The mission was over.

But the aftermath… Damien sighed. That was still to come.

He heard the click of the door opening behind him, drawing him from his troubled thoughts and he straightened up.

“Damien.”

He’d barely turned around and Liam was in his arms, holding him close. Damien returned the embrace, his eyes drifting closed as their mouths met. He could taste the last, lingering vestiges of Liam’s fear and he kissed it away as he pulled Liam firmly against him. Their hands flexed and caressed along each other’s back as the kiss lingered, as Damien realized once again how close he’d come to losing this.

They eased apart slowly, resting their foreheads together, still holding on to one another.

“Christ, Damien,” Liam breathed raggedly. “When I saw Knox release that deadman’s trigger all I could think…”

Damien lifted his head, a smile touching the corners of his mouth, needing to make light now that the danger was over. “Take more than a couple of nuclear bombs to put me down.” Then his brow furrowed. “Wait. What deadman’s trigger?”

Liam looked confused. “Knox had a deadman’s trigger in his hand. I saw it on CCTV. Didn’t Julia tell you?”

Damien shook his head. “She got to Michael first. I had no idea.” He huffed out a short laugh. “Well, shit. Kind of glad I _didn’t_ know that.”

“And I wished I knew what the bloody hell was going on down there,” Liam replied. “I just kept waiting for an explosion.”

Damien felt a small tremor under Liam’s skin and he leaned in and kissed him. “We had it all under control. This ‘go on zero’ thing really does work,” he grinned.

Liam rolled his eyes. “Tosser.” He cocked his head. “But since you did successfully disarm the bombs, where are the triggers?”

Damien hooked a thumb over his shoulder with a smirk. “In the safe in the closet.”

Liam gaped at him. “They’re in the _closet_?”

Damien shrugged. “I’m not about to let them out of my sight until I know who to turn them over to. Speaking of which, what’s happening with Dalton?”

“Julia called me while I was on my way over here. Dalton’s in surgery but the doctor said her prognosis is good.”

“She got lucky,” Damien said. “I may not like her much but I don’t want to see her dead.”

“But Knox… _He’s_ truly dead, right?”

Damien nodded. “He apparently got into some altercation with the locals. Fell on his gun and shot himself. We confirmed it before getting the hell out of there.” His voice went quiet. “I know you wanted to be the one…”

Liam’s blue eyes were hard. “He got off easy. He needed to know he was paying for Sinclair’s murder before I pulled the trigger.”

Damien shook his head. “No. It’s better this way. Trust me when I say an up-close kill…when you look them in the eyes…it’s not an easy thing to live with.”

Liam was still for a moment, his blue eyes now thoughtful and Damien could see him reading between the lines, understanding the double meaning about not only Damien himself but…

Liam blew out a breath. “Hanson.”

“Yeah,” Damien confirmed somberly. “I saw his body.”

Liam looked around the empty room. “Michael. Where is he?”

Damien turned his head toward the adjoining room without a word.

Liam followed his gaze then looked back at Damien with concern. “He closed the door? What’s going on?”

Damien exhaled sharply. “I don’t know how it went down between him and Hanson. He hasn’t said a word since we left the tunnels.” He ran a hand down his face. “It’s just like after Kerry was killed. He’s keeping it all inside again.” He swallowed, the words rough in his throat remembering a shattered beer bottle, a shout of anguish. “He’s gonna break, Liam.”

“And we’ll be there for him when he does,” Liam answered without hesitation.

They stood close together in silence for a long minute, their focus on the closed door, as if they could will Michael to walk through it. But he didn’t. Instead, they heard the shower turn on.

“Come on,” Liam said softly. “Let’s get you cleaned up, too, and then we’ll take care of Michael. Together.”

Liam placed a warm hand on the small of Damien’s back and urged him forward, toward the bathroom. With one last look at the closed door, Damien followed Liam, weariness in his every step. As Liam got the warm water flowing in the shower, Damien toed out of his boots and stripped off his dirty, blood-spattered clothes, dropping them in a heap on the floor. Naked, he opened the clear glass door and stepped under the spray, closing his eyes and tipping his head up into the water.

He hadn’t realized how dirty he was until he felt the grime start to wash away, the water gently stinging in the scratches on his face. He heard the shower door open again and was pleasantly surprised when Liam joined him. He stepped up close behind Damien and wrapped his arms around him, resting his head against the back of Damien’s neck.

Eyes still closed, Damien hummed in the back of his throat, leaning into Liam, welcoming his embrace as exhaustion started to creep up on him. They stood for a moment under the warm water before Liam kissed him gently on his shoulder and stepped away. Damien opened his eyes and turned around to find Liam lathering up his hands with shower gel. Damien gave him a tired smile as Liam stepped in close again and ran his soapy hands over Damien’s chest.

Their lips met gently again and again as Liam washed Damien, his hands kneading and massaging away the tension in Damien’s body. Damien tugged Liam against him under the spray as the soap rinsed away, kissing him long and slow. His cock began to stir as Liam’s hands wandered down his back and over the swell of his ass, his fingers flexing there. Damien copied him, his own hands sliding down to cup Liam’s ass, bringing their groins flush together.

Damien hummed again as a rush of warmth flowed through him, culminating low in his belly, his cock slowly filling. Liam smiled softly into the kiss, his own cock beginning to harden against Damien’s. He squeezed Damien’s ass gently and took a step back, turning Damien away from him. Damien placed his palms flat against the tiles of the shower wall and dropped his head with a groan when Liam’s hands, soapy once more, started working on his back. His fingers massaged Damien’s tight shoulder and neck muscles, releasing the stress he’d been carrying there throughout this long day. He let himself melt into Liam’s touch, his arousal slowly growing as his body relaxed.

Liam’s hands kneaded down his back then swirled slowly over and around Damien’s ass, his fingers brushing down the crease. Damien pulled in a breath at Liam’s sensual ministrations, watching his cock harden down between his legs. He reached a hand back behind him just as Liam molded his body up and against Damien’s. Liam kissed a path across his shoulders as the warm water flowed over them, the steam enveloping them both. Liam’s hands smoothed over Damien’s chest, through the short, soft dark hairs, his thumbs brushing over both of his nipples. Damien shivered at the stimulation and his hand pulled Liam tighter against him in encouragement. Liam continued to kiss along his shoulders and neck as his hands drifted slowly lower. Damien tipped his head back with a moan as one of them finally curled around his cock and stroked him long and slow.

“You feel good…” Liam whispered against his ear.

Damien twisted his head to kiss Liam as Liam rocked his hips, his hard cock sliding between Damien’s ass, brushing against the puckered muscle then pushing against his heavy balls as he continued to stroke Damien’s own erection.

“Need you…” Damien breathed into the kiss, his arousal continuing to spread through him in slow waves of heat.

Liam kissed him again, full of his own desire, then dropped to his knees behind Damien. Knowing what was coming, Damien swallowed, then shuddered, making a noise deep in the back of his throat as Liam’s hands spread his ass gently apart, exposing him, a moment before his tongue swiped across his entrance.

Damien’s moan was sharp, his arousal spiking through him now as Liam’s talented mouth and tongue worked him open, licking and pushing inside, past the tight ring of muscle, the feel of the warm water heightening the sensations. Damien’s cock throbbed in response, leaking pearls of precome. No matter how many times Liam had done this to him, it never failed to leave Damien breathless and aching for more.

Liam’s tongue continued to push in deep and Damien pressed his hips back. “More…” he pleaded gruffly over his shoulder, needing Liam inside him.

Liam rose smoothly to his feet, his cock now rubbing against Damien’s opening, his blue eyes so full of warmth and affection that Damien’s chest clenched.

“Damien…” Liam whispered as he slipped smoothly deep inside.

Damien’s fingers curled against the tile as Liam filled him, as his body stretched around his thick length. Their soft, twin sighs mingled in the water’s spray as they joined and held still for several heartbeats, blue eyes locked with blue. And this, this intimate connection is what Damien needed right now, after the terror of the day. A reminder that they’d survived despite the death that always surrounded them.

Liam leaned forward, entwining his arms around Damien once again, holding him close as he rolled his hips over and over, his pace unhurried. Damien fell into the rhythm, reaching back with one hand to keep Liam close as he moved inside him. They kissed as they rocked together, mouths parting to come back together again as Liam slowly but steadily eased them both higher, toward the edge of the cliff.

Damien felt the pressure building deep inside, his body aching for release now as Liam’s cock filled him so perfectly again and again. Close…so close…

“Don’t stop…don’t stop…” Damien rambled, pushing his hips back just as Liam’s rhythm faltered.

“With me…” Liam whispered roughly against Damien’s slick, wet skin as he slid one hand down between Damien’s legs. “Together…”

The touch of Liam’s hand was all it took. One, two strokes and Damien let go, his climax rolling through him in long, pulsing waves as he painted the tile with thick, white streams of his release. His soft cry of completion was echoed by Liam an instant before his cock swelled within Damien and he spilled deep inside him.

Damien rested his forehead against the shower wall for a moment, breathing hard, until Liam stilled behind him. He turned then, utterly drained, groaning quietly as Liam slipped from his body, and tugged Liam against him. They kissed languidly, hands smoothing over bare skin as they both settled until they stood, simply embracing under the water’s warm caress.

“Needed that,” Damien murmured against Liam’s short, dark hair.

Liam lifted his head. “We both did,” he replied quietly, his expression content.

Damien dropped a kiss on Liam’s forehead. “Come on, let’s go make sure Mike knows he’s not alone, either.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Michael extended his arm and placed his palm flat against the cool tile of the shower wall as the water began to fall. He bowed his head, staring down, watching as the clear water ran red with blood. His…and Hanson’s.

He knew he was shutting down, going numb, but he didn’t know how to stop it. Or if he even wanted to. He hadn’t spoken a word since he and Damien left Knox’s body lying in the street. Before people started asking them questions they didn’t want to answer.

He knew Damien had his own questions. But Michael had retreated too far inside his own head to speak, trying to process the events of the last hour. So he closed the connecting door and shut Damien out. He knew warning bells were going off inside his partner’s head, but to his credit he didn’t follow and gave Michael the space he needed. To quietly break down.

He sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, not moving, his gaze fixed, unseeingly, on the Johannesburg skyline outside the windows in front of him. He sat there until he heard voices. Liam had arrived. He was sure the two of them would now come looking for him, concerned. And he just…couldn’t. So he retreated to the shower. Where he now stood, watching the remnants of his final encounter with the man that killed his wife run down the drain.

He felt…empty.

There was a hole inside him where his quest for retribution, for justice, used to be. His sole focus, it had utterly consumed him, a fire burning out of control, for endless weeks.

And now the fire had been extinguished. It was over.

He should feel vindicated, triumphant.

But all he felt was sick, conflicted, twisted up inside.

Because had Hanson’s death truly solved anything? Kerry was gone and she was never coming back. He’d told Hanson that he forgave him. At the time he’d said it out of sheer malice. One final, parting shot. But now…? Maybe Hanson truly did deserve Michael’s forgiveness. Because Michael had started all of this, sent them down this path of destruction because of his failure as a leader. He took Jake and Hanson took Kerry. An eye for an eye. Michael deserved no less.

The hollow pit inside him growing, he moved on autopilot, washing mechanically, scrubbing at the dirt and blood, not even registering the stinging pain of the soap in his abrasions. He just wanted to try and get clean. Inside and out.

He next found himself standing in front of the mini bar, not even remembering leaving the shower or dressing in just a pair of gray sweatpants. When they first checked into the hotel Damien had ransacked all three mini bars and consolidated all of the little bottles of alcohol in one room. The one Michael was in.

He surveyed the bottles, standing like soldiers at attention in neat rows, as he reached for one. There weren’t enough. Not nearly enough. But it would be a good start to try and drown the guilt he knew now would never leave him.

That’s how Damien and Liam found him an indeterminate amount of time later, locked away inside himself, empty bottles scattered around him. Unfortunately, he wasn’t drunk. Just angry. And as empty as the bottles.

He sensed Liam and Damien approaching the table he was sitting at, but didn’t move or acknowledge them, his gaze focused on the one unopened bottle of whiskey in his hand. He silently pleaded with them to leave, unable to handle their pity, but instead Damien curled a hand over his shoulder.

“Mike?” he said softly. “Talk to me…”

His partner’s touch irrationally set him off, opening the floodgates. He batted Damien’s hand away, standing so abruptly he nearly knocked the chair over.

“_Talk?_” Michael spat, feeling the emotion rising within him. “What do you want me to say, mate? That I’ve gotten my revenge so all’s bloody right with the world now? Because it’s _not_.” He swallowed hard, voice flat. “Hanson’s dead. I killed him. But it means nothing. It didn’t change a _fucking_ thing.” He put a hand on his chest, his words hollow. “The pain, the guilt, it’s still here. And Kerry—” his voice broke. “—she’s still gone.”

Liam took a half step toward him, his blue eyes filled with compassion. “Michael…”

But Michael held up a hand, forestalling his movement, swallowing hard again. “There is death in everything we touch.”

Damien and Liam exchanged confused glances.

“What--?” Damien began.

Michael cut him off. “Hanson said that to me,” he explained. “And he’s right,” he continued, his words angry and bitter, his voice rising. “First Kate, then Kerry, then Jake, then Hanson. All of them my fault!” He threw his arms out to the side. “Who’s next?” he shouted. “You? Liam?”

Now Damien took a step forward, his expression a riot of emotions, anger at the forefront. Michael pointed at his partner. “Back off, Damien,” he warned.

But Damien would not be deterred, lunging forward and grabbing both of Michael’s wrists, holding on tightly. “The hell I will,” he growled. “I will not fucking stand here and watch you self-destruct! I _refuse_ to let you turn into me!”

His voice softened and he released Michael’s wrists, running his hands up to Michael’s shoulders. “You’re not to blame, Mike. You _have_ to forgive yourself,” he pleaded.

Liam moved in next to Damien. “You need to make peace with the past. Kerry would never want to see you like this.” He reached out and squeezed Michael’s hand. “Don’t let Hanson win from beyond the grave.”

Michael could feel tremors running under his skin as their words sunk in, breaking through the shell around his heart, his chest clenching. His throat closed up and he squeezed his eyes shut against the moisture gathering there.

Damien pulled him in, holding him close. “It’s over, Mike,” he whispered brokenly. “Let it go. Please…let it go…”

And Michael did, clutching at Damien as Liam wrapped his arms around him as well. He let the silent tears fall as his shoulders shook with the emotional release. He let the truth of their words begin to set him free. The guilt and the pain would always be there, but he couldn’t let it control him. He couldn’t let it hold him back, keeping him from his future. With the two men surrounding him, who refused to leave his side throughout everything, no matter how bad it got. Who were now determined to help him heal.

Physically and emotionally exhausted, he felt himself start to slump in Damien and Liam’s embrace, his body too drained to keep standing. In a matter of a few steps they had him over to the bed, and as he lay back he pulled them down with him, unwilling to break their connection.

“It’s okay, Mike…”

“We’re here, we’ve got you…”

Their quiet words washed over him as they blanketed his body with their warm, heavy weight. Michael raised his head, first seeking out Damien’s mouth for a deep kiss, desperate to lose himself in his partner’s touch. And Liam’s as well. He broke the kiss, breathing fast, and claimed Liam’s mouth next as Damien ghosted a hand over Michael’s bare chest. Michael shivered, tremors again racing under his skin, but no longer from anger.

And suddenly Michael knew what he wanted. What he needed. He’d been waiting for the right time, and he knew that time was now, to be as close to Liam and Damien as he possibly could.

“I need you,” he panted, his body arching up into theirs. “I need you both. I’m ready…”

Damien and Liam exchanged a quick glance before looking back down at him.

“Are you sure, Michael?” Liam asked softly.

Michael nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” His fingers flexed against their backs. “Want this. Please…”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Damien whispered and dipped his head to kiss him. “We want it, too. But who do you want first, Mike?” The corners of his mouth twitched. “Or are you going to make Liam and I fight over you?”

Michael froze at the simple question, at Damien’s joke. He hadn’t thought this through… He hesitated, torn, not wanting to choose and risk hurting the other.

“It’s okay, Michael,” Liam said quietly, then looked at Damien. “It should be you. It needs to be you.”

“Liam…” Michael trailed off, not quite sure what to say.

Liam kissed him gently. “I can wait my turn.”

Damien leaned across Michael and kissed Liam. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Liam sat up and started to stand and Michael snagged his wrist. “Stay,” he said.

“No. This is just for the two of you,” Liam replied with a soft smile that held no hint of jealousy as he rose from the bed.

Michael watched him cross the room and close the connecting door behind him before turning back to Damien.

“Hey,” he whispered, his heart starting to beat faster in anticipation.

Damien’s blue eyes were wide and gentle. “Hey,” he whispered in reply, his thumb brushing across Michael’s cheek before he leaned down and pressed his lips to Michael’s.

Michael sighed into the kiss, opening his mouth for Damien. Their tongues did a slow dance for long moments, Michael’s hands roaming over Damien’s broad back, up and under his t-shirt, his skin warm beneath Michael’s fingers. Damien hummed quietly and eased back from the kiss. His gaze was serious and uncertain.

“Mike…I’ve…I’ve never been anyone’s first,” he admitted. “And I want to make this good for you…”

He trailed off and Michael smiled at his partner’s uncharacteristic nervousness. “Is the great Damien Scott actually admitting his sexual skills might be lacking?” he teased.

Damien’s voice dropped to a growl, a glint now in his blue eyes. “Oh, I’ll show you skills.”

“I’m counting on it,” Michael breathed, an instant before Damien’s mouth claimed his once again.

This kiss was insistent, as Damien set out to prove himself, and it sparked a fire inside Michael, a flush of warmth racing through him. Their bodies rubbed together as they kissed, delicious friction against Michael’s cock as it filled and hardened inside his sweatpants. The fabric of Damien’s t-shirt brushed against Michael’s nipples, teasing them to tiny peaks, aching to be touched. His whole _body_ ached to be touched, to be skin-to-skin with Damien. He made an impatient noise in the back of his throat and tugged at his partner’s shirt and cargo pants. Damien got the hint and broke the kiss, rising up enough to pull off his t-shirt and toss it on the floor. Michael ran his hand up Damien’s bare chest as Damien’s hand dipped down to cup Michael through his sweatpants, gently rolling Michael’s heavy balls.

Michael sucked in a sharp breath and pushed up into the touch. Damien’s hand slid upward to palm Michael’s stiff cock, giving it a quick squeeze before he eased the sweatpants down and off Michael’s legs. Michael groaned softly as he was exposed, watching as Damien stood and stripped in front of him, his cock standing at attention in the moonlight now streaming through the windows. Michael swallowed thickly, his body aching to be filled, and he spread his legs in invitation.

He held out a hand. “Damien…”

His partner’s expression went soft and he moved between Michael’s legs, covering Michael’s body with his own. Michael sighed at the welcome weight, at Damien’s heat, as his mouth found the sensitive spot behind Michael’s ear and kissed down the long column of his neck. Michael shivered at the sensation, arching his head back into the pillow as Damien began an exploration of his body. His hands and mouth touched and kissed every inch of his bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until Michael was practically vibrating with need, shifting restlessly, his cock painfully hard, the tip red and wet with precome.

And when Damien touched him there, between his legs, Michael shivered again with a groan and could take no more.

“Bloody hell, Damien…” he breathed hoarsely. “Stop fucking teasing…”

Damien lifted his head, his stubble brushing against Michael’s sensitive skin, that same glint in his blue eyes again. “Love it when you go all Bravo One on me, giving orders.”

“That so?” Michael grinned, then slipped into Sergeant Stonebridge. “Then how about this order? In me. Now.”

Damien’s eyes went wide and dark. “Fucking copy that.”

He surged up, kissing Michael hard and deep, setting Michael’s body on fire once more before rolling away, reaching for the bedside table. Tube in hand, he moved back between Michael’s legs, bending them at the knee and spreading them wide. Michael’s heart stuttered as Damien slicked his cock and fingers. Then those fingers were rubbing against the small, hidden puckered muscle, asking for entrance. Michael nodded once and one finger slipped slowly inside him. He hummed in the back of his throat. It felt good, first one finger, then two, stretching him, Damien’s other hand smoothing along his leg and stomach. He made a soft noise when two fingers became three, at the stretch and fullness. He knew Damien’s cock would stretch him even wider, fill him even more and the thought spiked his arousal. He pushed down on Damien’s fingers, trying to get them deeper, his cock leaking steadily now.

“Good…I’m good…” He reached for Damien again. “Need you…”

Damien withdrew his fingers and Michael felt empty. He expected to feel Damien’s cock taking his finger’s place, but instead his partner shifted, moving up beside Michael. He dipped his head, one hand curling around Michael’s cock, giving it a stroke.

“Ride me…” he breathed gruffly against Michael’s lips.

The thought sent a thrill through Michael and he groaned as Damien kissed him, rolled him on top of him. He felt Damien’s slick cock rubbing against his ass, pressing against his entrance and he broke the kiss, rising up on his knees, straddling Damien.

His blood thrummed in his veins as he reached back behind himself and took Damien’s erection in hand, guiding it back to his entrance. Damien nodded up at him, running his hands up Michael’s thighs.

“You’re in charge, Mike. Fast, slow…whatever you want…whatever feels good.”

“_You_ feel good,” Michael whispered, locking eyes with his partner as he pushed down ever so slowly until just the swollen head of his cock slipped inside him. “_Damien_…” he breathed harshly at this first, intimate connection, his eyes sliding partially closed.

“God, _Mike_…” Damien groaned in return, his hands rising up to curl around Michael’s hips. “So tight…”

Michael relished the burn and the way his body opened as he took more of his partner’s cock in, as Damien filled him completely for the first time. He knew then without a doubt that something had been telling him all those years ago to wait. And he was glad he had. Because this moment right here? Had been worth the wait.

“Mike…” Damien whispered as Michael settled, his partner’s length now fully inside him.

Michael looked down, knew from the expression on his Damien’s face that he was as moved by this first joining as Michael and his heart stuttered in response.

Michael stilled for a moment, letting his body adjust to the new sensations as the initial discomfort slowly turned to pleasure, the fire rising within him again. He contracted his internal muscles around Damien’s cock and the reaction was instantaneous.

“Christ!” Damien shouted, tossing his head back, his hands squeezing Michael’s hips as his own tried to jerk upward.

The small movement of Damien’s cock inside him triggered Michael, the urge to move now overwhelming. He rose up with a groan, letting Damien’s cock slip nearly all the way out, until just the head remained, before sinking back down in one smooth motion.

“Oh, _fuck,_ yeah…” Damien exhaled.

His partner held onto his hips as Michael rode him, slow at first, then faster, finding the perfect pace, keeping himself just on the edge of release, the drag of Damien’s cock inside him setting off sparks up and down his spine.

“God Damien…so good…” he panted, leaning forward to grasp the top of the headboard.

The change in angle pulled a sharp gasp from him as Damien’s cock moved as well, sending a tremor through him.

“Yeah, that’s it…” Damien grinned, breathing hard. “That’s the spot…”

He tightened his hands on Michael’s hips and pumped his own up in counterpoint as Michael sank back down.

Michael gasped once more as Damien’s cock pushed deeper inside him. “Again!”

Michael threw his head back as he ground down on Damien’s thick length, as Damien pressed up into him, nearly overwhelmed with arousal and sensations he’d never experienced before. His own cock was painfully hard, leaking precome steadily, aching for release. Michael knew he couldn’t hold out much longer, his body practically shaking as he continued to ride Damien.

“Harder,” he ground out, looking down at his partner, saw how close he was to the edge, too.

Damien locked gazes with him. “Come for me, Mike.”

Then he snapped his hips and Michael saw stars. His climax surged through him with the force of a fighter jet and he cried out at the intensity. His cock jerked, thick, white ribbons painting Damien’s chest again and again as he clutched the headboard.

Beneath him, Damien continued to pump his hips, drawing out Michael’s orgasm, the sensation rippling through him in waves. Then suddenly Damien stilled, pulling Michael down hard onto his cock with a sharp, hoarse shout.

“Oh _fuck_…Mike!”

An instant later his cock swelled inside Michael and he could feel each pulse as Damien came deep within him, filling him with the liquid heat of his release. The sensation was so erotic, so intimate that it stole Michael’s breath. Damien held up a hand, his blue eyes wide and soft and Michael threaded their fingers together as he sank down on top of his partner, their mouths meeting for an impassioned kiss as they shook against one another.

It was long moments later before they settled and eased slowly out of the kiss, still joined together. Michael was temporarily at a loss for words to describe what he was feeling, but apparently not Damien, as a self-satisfied smile spread across his face.

“How about those skills now, Mikey?”

Michael’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me? I believe I was the one doing all the work, mate!”

Damien shrugged, smirked. “Well yeah, but it was still my equipment.”

All Michael could do was laugh and kiss him again.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Early the next morning, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, the soft click of the connecting door opening drew Liam gently from his sleep. He knew it was Michael without even opening his eyes. He lay still as Michael padded softly across the room and slid under the sheets with him, fitting his strong, naked body around Liam’s. Liam sighed and turned around into Michael’s embrace. His skin was warm and smelled faintly of sex and of Damien. Liam inhaled again, picturing the two of them together, his cock twitching in response.

Michael dipped his head and kissed Liam’s temple. “Morning,” he whispered.

Liam let his eyes drift open. “Hmm…” he murmured, kissing the side of Michael’s neck.

“What are you doing all the way down here?” Michael asked quietly.

Liam leaned back slightly to be able to look at Michael. Last night, after he’d left Damien and Michael, he’d decided against sleeping in the immediate connecting room and instead chose the furthest one.

“I didn’t want to be tempted to listen in,” he explained. “Last night was just for you and Damien.”

Michael’s expression was immediately full of apology. “Liam, I—”

“Michael, it’s okay,” Liam interrupted him. “I’m not feeling insecure or jealous that you were with Damien first. Honestly,” he reassured him. “Like I said, it needed to be him. You have history. You’ve saved each other’s lives countless times before I’d met either of you. The bond you two have…it was there long before me. In fact, I was positive that you’d been with Damien before he and I got together. That’s how close you two are. I was honestly shocked when he told me that you hadn’t slept together.”

He reached up and cupped the side of Michael’s face. “You and I are making our own bond, day by day.”

Michael leaned into Liam’s touch, the worry gone from his hazel eyes. “I’m glad you took the decision out of my hands. Because I could never have chosen. I never wanted either of you to feel like you were second best.”

Liam shook his head slowly. “I didn’t. I don’t.” He smiled softly. “Thank you for trusting Damien and I with this, for you.”

Michael lay his hand gently on Liam’s chest, over his heart. “I finally knew it was time. That the two of you were what I’d been waiting for.”

Liam’s voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned in close. “Then let me show you how right you were to wait. Because this…right here, right now…is still a first…”

Even their kiss felt like a first, a bit tentative, warm lips pressing gently together, closed-mouthed, once…twice. Then gradually bolder, Liam’s tongue brushing along Michael’s bottom lip, silently asking for more. Which Michael gave, opening to Liam, their tongues sliding sensuously together as soft, twin noises of contentment mingled in the quiet room.

Liam would never be able to get enough of kissing Michael. Because Michael always brought everything he was feeling into the moment. It was always different and new, both of them open and vulnerable in their intimacy.

Michael’s face was slightly flushed when they eased back, his hand drifting down over the swell of Liam’s ass, Liam’s cock stirring at the touch. “How long do you think it’ll be before Damien comes looking for us?” he smiled. “He doesn’t have your self-control.”

Liam chuckled. “He doesn’t have _any_ self-control.”

“No argument from me,” Michael grinned.

Liam tugged Michael more firmly against him, the evidence of Michael’s arousal apparent as it pressed against his own. Liam’s words were a husky growl against Michael’s lips. “Well, he’d better hurry up or he’s going to miss all the fun.”

This kiss was hungry, their bodies rocking together, hands roaming over bare skin, heat growing between them. It was Liam’s turn to caress Michael’s firm ass, one finger dipping down between to rub against the puckered muscle. Liam didn’t miss Michael’s almost imperceptible flinch at the touch and he stilled, pulling back from the kiss in concern.

“Are you sore?” he asked quietly.

“A little,” Michael admitted. “But it’s the good kind of sore.” His eyes darkened. “The kind you want to repeat,” he breathed before capturing Liam’s mouth once again.

Liam’s desire flared at the thought of being buried inside Michael and he kissed him back hard and fast, his cock releasing a sticky burst of precome against Michael’s stomach in anticipation. He broke the kiss a long moment later, panting. “On your knees.”

Michael’s eyes widened and he nodded, rolling away from Liam, up onto all fours. He looked back over his shoulder, his expression one of raw desire. Liam swallowed hard at the sight of Michael presenting himself to him, his cock now achingly stiff. Striving to push their arousal even higher, Liam dipped his head and began licking Michael open. His tongue laved against the small muscle again and again, Michael’s sharp moan echoing in the room as Liam prepared him for his cock. Liam’s tongue darted in, past the ring of muscle, pushing deep, over and over.

Michael groaned, his head dropping down as he pressed his hips back. “Fuck…so good…”

Liam swiftly and thoroughly wet a finger and gently slid it inside Michael alongside his tongue.

“God…_yes_…” Michael breathed harshly. “More…”

Feeding off Michael’s pleasure, Liam continued to stretch him with his mouth and tongue and finger until he felt the fine tremors running under Michael’s skin.

“Need you, Liam…please…” Michael pleaded, turning hungry eyes on Liam over his shoulder.

Liam shivered at Michael’s tone and rose up, kissing his way up Michael’s long back, until Michael turned to lay facing up at him. Liam draped his body over him, his voice pitched low with undisguised desire. “What do you want, Michael? Tell me…”

“You…” Michael breathed. “Long and slow. Make it last…”

Liam wanted nothing more than exactly that himself, and his kiss in reply told Michael so. He eased back from it reluctantly to retrieve the tube from the bedside table and coated his rock hard cock with the slippery lube. He paused then, the swollen head of his cock rubbing against the puckered muscle, and locked eyes with Michael. He saw the absolute trust in Michael’s expression and Liam’s heart stuttered in his chest as he slowly eased his way inside Michael’s body for the first time.

The sensation was nearly overwhelming and Liam pulled in a sharp breath as his cock was surrounded by tight heat. Michael tossed his head back into the pillow, his mouth falling open with a low groan as he reached for Liam. He grasped Liam’s arm, urging him forward until Liam was fully inside him. His arms braced on either side of Michael’s shoulders, Liam paused once again.

“Michael…” he breathed.

“Feels…amazing,” Michael said quietly. “Different from Damien.” He smiled up at Liam, raising one hand up to cup the side of Liam’s face. “And I love that.”

Liam smiled softly in reply as Michael brushed his thumb across his cheekbone as Liam dipped his head and claimed Michael’s mouth for a deep kiss as he began to move.

He swallowed down both their rumbling noises of pleasure then gradually eased back from the kiss a long moment later as he set up the slow, steady rhythm of withdrawing nearly all the way before pushing smoothly back inside Michael’s body. The rest of the world fell away as they moved together, joined so intimately, one instead of two.

Michael’s legs wrapped around Liam’s lower back, the press of a heel encouraging Liam to push a little harder, a little deeper. And Liam did so, their soft, panting breaths filling the room as he guided them higher and higher, toward the edge of release.

“Almost…almost…” Michael gasped, arching up under Liam, grasping his upper arms. “Feels so good…”

Liam was nearly there himself, the first stirrings of his orgasm beginning low in his belly. But he wasn’t ready for this to end. So he stilled, buried deep inside Michael.

Michael whined low in his throat, confused. “Liam…” he pleaded.

Liam shook his head, breathing hard. “Not yet. Too soon…”

He sank down, his mouth seeking out Michael’s for another long kiss until the urge to come had subsided. Then he slowly rose back up and started again, rocking their bodies together, stoking the flame of arousal once more.

Michael’s eyes were blown wide with unrestrained desire, his face flushed, his body radiating heat beneath Liam. Liam’s stomach fluttered at the sight, heady with the knowledge that he was the one giving Michael such pleasure, and he now wanted nothing more than to watch Michael shatter in release.

But before he could make that happen, Michael’s gaze suddenly shifted to the side, to behind Liam.

“Damien…” Michael ground out.

Liam slowed once again as Michael looked back at him, a question in his eyes. A small smile spread across Liam’s face and he gave a tiny nod. Yes, he wanted Damien with them. It’s how it should be, the three of them, joined together.

Liam continued to roll his hips slowly as he glanced over his shoulder, spying Damien standing naked in the doorway. There was both undisguised hunger in his blue eyes as he watched Liam and Michael and guilt that he was intruding on their private moment.

“We were waiting for you,” Liam breathed, as Michael reached out a hand toward his partner. “Need you…”

“Fuck _me_…”

Damien was across the room in three long strides, his blue eyes now gone dark at Liam and Michael’s invitation. He stepped up behind Liam and molded his body against Liam’s back, holding him close. Liam groaned at the heat of Damien’s body, as he kissed along his neck, sending shivers through him. He could feel Damien’s cock, hard already, rubbing against his inner thigh. A bolt of arousal shot through him. He had to have Damien inside him. Now.

He pressed his ass back against Damien’s groin. “Hurry…”

He felt Damien’s rumble of desire reverberate from his chest against his back. Damien tightened his hold on Liam for a brief second before straightening up and snatching the tube from the mattress. But when his slick fingers rubbed against Liam’s entrance, Liam looked behind him and shook his head impatiently.

“Don’t need it…just you…now…” he rambled.

Damien didn’t argue, a testament to how aroused he was as well, and a moment later his cock pushed inside of Liam. Liam sucked in a sharp breath at the burn, as his body took in Damien’s thick length, but like Michael had said, it was the good kind that you wanted to repeat.

Damien held still as the last inch of his cock slipped inside Liam and Liam couldn’t help the small moan that fell from his lips as he was filled so completely.

Damien leaned over him again, his mouth next to Liam’s ear. “Fucking perfect,” he whispered hoarsely. “Both of you…all of us…”

Michael shifted one hand from Liam’s arm to Damien’s shoulder, holding onto both of them. “All of us,” he repeated, voice catching just slightly.

Liam’s throat tightened with emotion, his eyes drifting partially closed as Damien kissed Michael’s hand and then Liam’s shoulder, only to open his eyes wide again as Damien shifted and began to move.

This time three deep groans mingled in the morning light as their bodies began the intimate dance. Liam instantly found himself caught in a feedback loop of intense pleasure—Damien’s thrusts into him pushed his own cock into Michael—giving and receiving all at the same time. And Liam couldn’t get enough of it.

But it was never going to last long, the three of them already too close to the edge to start with, and Liam didn’t try and tamp down his arousal this time, surrendering to the overpowering sensations building within him, wanting to be swept away. He could see it in Michael’s face, feel it in the tremors in his body, that he was on the precipice of surrender himself. Still desperate to watch Michael fall apart beneath him, Liam shifted his weight onto one arm, Damien’s grip on his hips keeping him steady, and reached down between Michael’s legs. Michael’s cock was hot and hard and heavy against his palm, the head swollen and red, peeking out of the foreskin, the tip wet with precome.

Liam flicked his wrist, stroking him hard and fast and the reaction was instantaneous.

“God, Liam…yes!”

Michael bucked up under him with a shout, his cock jerking in Liam’s grasp as thick, white streaks painted his chest.

Michael’s climax set off a chain reaction. His body contracted around Liam’s cock, the exquisite pressure all Liam needed to follow him off the cliff. He gave his own sharp shout as lightning surged down his spine, his cock swelling as he came in long pulses, spilling deep within Michael for the first time.

“_Christ_…”

Damien’s hoarse groan was Liam’s only warning. A split second later he thrust hard and strong, holding Liam flush against him as his cock surged inside of him, filling Liam with slick, wet heat.

The dual stimulation proved too much for Liam, his body trembling from the overpowering sensations coursing through him and his limbs gave out. He sagged down on top of Michael, drawing Damien down on top of him, still connected to both of them. He closed his eyes as they held him, as they shook against one another in the aftermath. And despite the heavy, nearly uncomfortable weight of the warm, hard bodies above and below him, Liam smiled, utterly content. Because there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was late morning when Damien stirred, blinking open his eyes to the sunlight streaming in through the hotel room windows. He exhaled a long, slow, relaxed breath, lying still, soaking in the warmth of Liam and Michael on either side of him. They had fallen asleep hours ago, Damien’s body heavy and sated, Liam’s head on his shoulder, Michael’s arm across his chest. Last night and this morning felt like a dream, one he wanted to repeat over and over and never leave these rooms. But he also knew they couldn’t stay in this bubble they’d created. They were going to have to face the reality beyond these walls soon.

“Why are you thinking so loud?”

The corner of Damien’s mouth twitched and he turned his head toward Michael. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” Michael replied quietly. “What’s wrong?”

Damien shook his head, wanting to put off the discussion a little while longer. “Nothing.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Damien turned his head the other way at Liam’s soft voice, his blue eyes open now, looking at Damien with concern.

Liam propped himself up on his elbow. “What is it?”

It was obvious that neither of them were going to let it go, so Damien sighed heavily. “It’s just…what happens now?”

Michael rolled to his side, looking at Damien steadily. He nodded slowly. “With Dalton still in hospital, until she talks to the top brass we don’t know what kind of future Twenty has.”

“What kind of future _we_ have,” Liam added somberly.

Damien shook his head forcefully. “No. We didn’t find one another and survive all this shit just to have it all taken away. No matter what happens with Twenty, _you two_ are my future.”

Michael’s voice was strong and sure as he lay his hand over Damien’s heart. “And we’ll face it together.”

Liam’s hand joined Michael’s. “Together.”

Damien’s arms encircled them both as they moved as one for a three-way kiss to seal their vow.

As he held Michael and Liam close, Damien couldn’t help but think that as much as he didn’t like sports, this was one triple play he was more than eager to be a part of.

**THE END**

Thank you so much for reading! I know it’s a bittersweet ending, since we’re all aware of what happens to Baxter [sob!] but I thought these three should find some happiness, even if it’s just for a brief period of time.


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